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Microfiche 

Series. 


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Collection  de 
microfiches. 


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Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  tachniquas  at  hibliographiquat 


Tha 
toti 


Tha  Inatituta  haa  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  baat 
original  copy  availabia  for  filming.  Faaturaa  of  thia 
copy  which  may  ba  bibiiographically  uniqua, 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagaa  in  tha 
reproduction,  or  which  may  aignificantly  chas^ga 
the  uaual  method  of  filming,  are  chaclced  below. 


n 


D 


D 


n 


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Coloured  covera/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommegAe 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restauria  et/ou  peiliculAe 


I      I   Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


□   Coloured  maps/ 
Cartas  gtegraphiques  en  couleur 


Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


I      I   Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


D 


Planches  et/ou  illustrationt  an  couleur 


Bound  with  other  material/ 
ReliA  avec  d'autres  documanta 


Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  liure  serrie  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  int6rieure 

Blank  leavea  added  during  reatoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pagea  blanches  ajouttea 
lore  d'une  restauration  apparaiaaant  dans  la  texte, 
male,  lorsque  cela  Atait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  AtA  f  limAas. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl^mentairas: 


L'Institut  a  micrrtf  ilm6  la  mailleur  exemplaira 
qu'il  lui  a  Ati  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  ditaiis 
da  cat  axamplaire  qui  sont  peut-Atre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mAthoda  normale  de  filmaga 
sont  indiqute  ci-dessous. 


I      I   Coloured  pages/ 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagtes 

Pages  reatorad  and/oi 

Pages  restaurias  et/ou  peiiiculAaa 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxet 
Pages  dAcolorAes,  tachaties  ou  piqu6es 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  ditachtes 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Quality  inAgala  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  materii 
Comprend  du  matiriel  suppi^mentaira 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


I — I  Pages  damaged/ 

r^  Pages  reatorad  and/or  laminated/ 

r~^  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 

I      I  Pages  detached/ 

rri  Showthrough/ 

I      I  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I      I  Includes  supplementary  material/ 

I — I  Only  edition  available/ 


The 
poai 
ofti 
film 


Orifl 

bagi 

tha 

aion 

oth« 

firat 

aion 

or  ill 


Tha 
ahal 
TINI 
whk 

Map 

diff« 
antli 

bagI 
righ 
raqu 
meti 


Pagea  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  ref limed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Lea  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d 'errata,  una  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  At*  filmtes  A  nouveau  de  faipon  A 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  fiimA  au  taux  de  reduction  indiquA  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


26X 


aox 


A 


12X 


16X 


20X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


Th«  copy  fiiniMl  h«r«  hn  b««n  r«produe«d  thanks 
to  th«  g«n«rosity  of: 

Ubrary 

Trent  Univanity,  Pattrborough 


L'«x«mpl«ir«  film4  f ut  roproduit  grico  A  la 
g*n4roait*  da: 

Ubrary 

Trant  Univanity,  Patarborough 


Tha  imagaa  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  baat  quality 
posaibia  conaidaring  tha  condition  and  lagibiii  ty 
of  tha  originai  copy  and  in  Icaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  spaoif ieationa. 


Original  capias  in  printad  papar  covers  ara  filmad 
beginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  anding  on 
tha  laat  paga  with  a  printad  or  iiluatratad  impraa- 
sion,  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriata.  All 
othar  original  copies  ara  filmad  beginning  on  tha 
firat  paga  with  a  printad  or  iiluatratad  impraa- 
sion,  and  anding  on  the  laat  paga  with  a  printad 
or  iiluatratad  impraasion. 


Las  images  suivsntes  ont  4tA  reproduites  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin,  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  ia  nettet*  de  I'axempieire  film*,  et  9n 
conformity  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  da 
filmaga. 

Lee  exempiaires  originsux  dont  la  couverture  •n 
papier  est  imprim^e  sont  fiimis  en  commenpant 
per  ie  premier  piat  et  en  terminent  soit  par  la 
darnlAre  pege  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  la  second 
plat,  salon  Ie  cas.  Tous  ies  autras  exempleires 
origineux  sont  fiimAs  en  commenpent  per  Ie 
premiire  pege  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'iiiustrstion  et  en  terminent  per 
ie  derniire  paga  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  ieet  recorded  f reme  on  each  microfiche 
shell  contain  the  symbol  — ^  (meening  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  ▼  (meening  "END"), 
whichever  epplies. 


Un  dee  symbcles  suivents  epparaltra  sur  la 
darnlAre  imege  de  cheque  microfiche,  seion  Ie 
ces:  is  symbols  -^  signifie  "A  SUiVRE".  Ie 
symboic  ▼  signifie  "FIN". 


Mapa,  platea,  charts,  etc..  may  be  filmed  et 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  ierge  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  ara  fiimaci 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hend  comer,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  aa  many  framee  ee 
required.  The  following  diegrams  iiluatrata  the 
method: 


Lee  certes,  pienches,  tabisaux,  etc..  peuvent  Atre 
fiSmis  A  des  taux  de  reduction  diffirents. 
Lorsque  Ie  document  est  trop  grand  pour  itre 
reproduit  en  un  seui  cliche,  il  est  fiimA  A  partir 
de  Tengla  supArieur  geuche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  heut  en  Ims,  sn  prenant  la  nombre 
d'imeges  nAcesseire.  lies  diegrammes  suivents 
illustrent  la  mathode. 


1 

2 

3 

32X 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

-"  ''.  Tt 


ii  n,.^ 


?--■- 


)  : 


I  i 


<  )i 


Sll 


i 

I 


HISTORY 


or 


CHARLES   THE  BOLD, 


•  ■•.i,.i,rt 


-;jtAq«i,r^5. 


DUKE  OF  BURGUNDY. 


B« 


JOHN    FOSTER    KIRK. 


VOL.  I. 


V        «     , 


PHILADELPHIA: 
J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT   &   CO. 

1864. 


^   C.\o\\ 


\§\     Vs,(p 


0  . 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  CongreM.  m  the  year  1863,  by 

JOHN    rOSTEK    KIUK, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  D  Court  of  the  District  of  MaBsachUBett. 


.1 


TO 


JAMES  LAWRENCE,   ESQUIRE, 

OF    BOSTON. 


Mt  dear  Mr.  Lawrence,  * 

I  wish  to  be  permitted  to  connect  your  name  with  this  book,  us 
well  on  account  of  the  associations  which  first  led  you  to  feel  an  interest 
in  its  composition  as  because  you,  more  than  any  other  of  my  friends, 
have  known  the  obstacles  in  the  way,  and  have  done  all  that  friend — 
or  man  —  could  do  to  remove  them. 

Uelieve  me,  dear  Mr.  Lawrence, 

Ever  faithfully  and  aflectionately  yours, 

J.  F.  KIRK. 


26uS33 


/o^0i 


PREFACE 


For  the  greater  number  of  the  works  consulted  in 
tlie  preparation  of  this  History,  the  author  was  in- 
debted to  the  kindness  of  the  late  William  H.  Prescott, 
who  employed  i  '1  the  facilities  at  his  command  for 
procuring  the  requisite  materials.  Circumstances 
might  be  mentioned  to  explain  the  generous  interest 
thus  displayed  in  a  doubtful  enterprise  by  one  who 
knew,  because  he  had  himself  surmounted  them,  the 
difficulties  of  historical  investigation.  But,  in  truth, 
nothing  was  more  characteristic  of  that  distinguished 
and  lamented  man,  than  his  readiness  to  afford  en- 
couragement, counsel,  or  assistance  to  the  humblest 
of  his  fellow-laborers  in  an  ample  and '  ever  widening 
field. 

Mr.  Charles  Folsom,  of  Cambridge,  Massachusetts, 
whose  critical  acumen,  happily  for  more  than  one 
generation  of  literary  men,  has  found  less  congenial 
employment  in  the  public  castigation  than  in  the 
private  correction  of  faults  and  inaccuracies,  gave 
kind  and  valuable  aid  in  the  revision  of  the  press ;  an 
advantage,  however,  confined  unfortunately  to  the 
first  volume,  owing  to  a  greater  rapidity  in  the  print- 
ing of  the  second. 

:' "  -  '    ;  (V) 


VI 


PREFACE. 


To  several  other  gentlemen  whose  merits  and 
aceomplishments  are  widely  known,  —  to  Professor 
Parsons  of  Harvard  College,  the  lieverend  William 
R  Alger,  Mr.  James  A.  Dupee,  and  in  a  very  jjartieu- 
lar  degree  to  Mr.  James  T.  Fields,  —  the  writer  is 
under  obligations  lor  various  friendly  offiees  whieh 
have  faeilitated  the  prosecution  of  his  task.  It  can 
detract  nothing  from  the  Ibrce  of  this  acknowledg- 
ment to  add,  that  the  wsirmth  with  which  such 
services  were  rendered  is  a  national  as  well  as  an 
individual  trait.  All  who  are  well  acquainted  with 
tiie  social  condition  of  the  United  States  will  admit 
that  it  is  the  country  where  men  are  best  able  to 
help  themselves,  and  most  ready  to  help  others. 

The  career  of  Charles  the  Bold  has  been  connnonly 
regarded  as  merel}"^  a  romantic  episode  in  Europciin 
history.  That  the  subject  is  in  truth  ono.  of  a  very 
different  nature,  has,  however,  been  apparent  to  the 
Continental  scholars  who  within  tlie  last  twenty 
years  have  ma^e  a  special  study  of  its  different  por- 
tions, and  whose  researches  have  done  much  for  the 
elucidation  of  its  obscurer  features.  In  the  volumes 
now  submitted  to  the  public,  to  be  completed  by  a 
third  wdiich  is  in  course  of  preparation,  an  at- 
tempt has  been  made  to  combine  in  a  symmetrical 
narrative  whatever  tiie  chronicles,  the  documentary 
evidence  and  the  fruits  of  critical  inquay  and  discus- 
sion could  furnish  for  the  just  appreciation  of  an 
eventful  period.  Recent  explorations  in  Belgium, 
in  Switzerland,  in  Austria,  and  other  German  states, 
have  brought  to  light  a  quantity  of  material,  which 


PREFACE. 


vii 


has  been  lightly  con.siderecl  as  cliiiniin<jf  fjr  the  chief 
uctor.s  and  notable  transactions  of  ihi>t  period  an 
ampler  presentment,  a  stricter  analysis,  and  in  some 
"ases  a  more  impartial  judgment,  tlian  they  had 
hitherto  obtained.  Those,  therefore,  in  whom  the 
maj-terly  delineations  of  Piiilippe  dc  Connnines,  the 
skilfidly  excuted  mosaics  of  M.  de  Barante,  or  the 
fascinating  pictures  of  Scott,  may  have  suggested  a 
wish  for  fuller  or  more  accurate  information,  will  not, 
it  is  hoped,  be  disposed  to  reject  the  contribution 
here  offered.  While  it  might  be  more  satisfactory  to 
gather  the  results  from  the  original  sources  them- 
selves, the  most  inquisitive  can  scarcely  be  expected 
to  roam  over  so  wide  a  field,  in  search  of  memoirs 
and  documents  scattered  among  the  publications  of 
Royal  Commissions  and  learned  Societies,  written  in 
various  and  often  in  obscure  dialects,  and  requiring 
for  their  comprehension  a  previous  familiarity  with 
details. 

That  the  material  has  been  duly  sifted,  to  the 
extent  of  the  author's  ability,  need  hardly  be  said, 
for  the  canons  of  historical  composition  are  now  too 
well  settled  and  too  generally  understood  to  allow  of 
any  wanton  negligence  on  the  part  of  the  writer,  or 
any  willing  credulity  on  that  of  the  reader.  The 
one  thing  essential  to  the  value  of  such  a  composi- 
tion is  a  strij^t  conformity  with  facts,  as  far  as  these 
can  be  ascertained.  No  one  expects  from  it  the 
artistic  harmony,  the  unity  and  completeness,  the 
agreement  of  form  and  substance,  which  give  their 
highest  charm  to  products  of  the  pure  imagination. 


W^ 


VUl 


PREFACE. 


And  evi  n  that  sense  of  reality  which  forms  the  com- 
pensatory balance  is  necessarily  imperi'ect  and  con- 
stantly disturbed.  Apart  from  the  common  liability 
to  errors  and  oversights,  the  medium  through  which 
the  story  passes  will  give  its  own  coloring  to  the 
dryest  as  well  as  the  most  brilliant  work.  History 
at  the  best  is  but  an  echo,  a  faint  reverberation  of 
the  tumult  of  the  world  amongst  the  thoughts  and 
experiences  of  a  single  mind. 


LovAon,  November,  1863. 


CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  L 


BOOK     I. 


I'ACili 


CHAPTER   I. 
France  at   the  Close  op  the  Fourteenth,  and  in 

THE  First  PIalf  of  the  Fifteenth,  Centurv    .        i 


CHAPTER   II. 
Dominions,  Court,  and  Policy  of  Philip  the  Good 

CHAPTER    III. 

The  Heir  of  Burgundy  _  The  Heir   of  Francf- 
AccEssioN  OF  Louis  XI.  -_  (1483-1461) 

CHAPTER   IV. 
Character  of  Louis -His  Position  and  Aims -Em- 
broilments with  the  Nobles  -  (1461-1465) 

CHAPTER   V. 

CHAPTER    VI. 
War  OF  the  Public  Weal -Blockade  of  Paris - 

IREATY  OF  CONFLANS  —  (1465) 

VOL.    I.  J  

(ix) 


48 


121 


186 


238 


279 


/ 


X  CONTENTS  OF  VOL.  I, 

CHAPTER    VII. 

PAGE 

Liege  —  Its  IIistouy  and  Institutions — RrvoLUTiox 
UNDEu  Louis  of  Boukbon — The  "Piteous  Peace" 
—  (1466)       321 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

How  THE   King   kecovered   Noemandy  —  State   of 

DiNANT  — (UGO) 362 

CHAPTER    IX. 

Fate  of  Dinant  —  Surmisrion  of  Liege  —  Death  op 

Philip  THE  Good— (1466-1467) '403 


BOOK    II. 


CHAPTER    I. 

Bruges  and  Ghent  —  The  Joyous  Entry  and  the 
"  FoGLS  OF  Saint  Lievin  "  —  Relative  Positions 
OF  Louis  and  Charles  —  (1467) 411 

CHAPTER    II. 

Renewed  War  with  Liege  —  Mediation  of  Saint- 
Pol  —  Battle  op  Brusten  —  Surrender  of 
Liege  —  (1467) 474 

CHAPTER    III. 

Charles's  Household  and  Mode  of  Government  — 

Ills  Marriage  with  Margaret  of  York  —  IIos-      I 
TILE   Demonstrations  of  Louis  —  IIis  Visit   to 
Pkbonne  —  (1468) 503 

CHAPTER    IV. 
Treaty  of  Peronne  —  Final  Ruin  of  Liege  —  (146S)     fi61 


HISTORY 


OF 


CHARLES   THE  BOLD. 


BOOK  I. 


CHAPTER    I. 


FSAKCE  AT  THE  CLOSE  OF  THE  FOURTEENTH,  AND  IN  THE  FIRST 
HALF  OF  THE  FIFTEENTH,  CENTURY- 

When  the  chivalrous  but  unfortunate  King  John 
of  France,  in  fulfilment  of  his  knightly  pledge,  was 
about  to  return  to  the  English  prison  where  he 
was  destined  to  end  his  life,  he  deposited  with  the 
chancellor  of  Burgundy  an  instrument  whereby  he 
granted  that  duchy  as  a  fief  to  his  youngest  and 
favorite  son,  Philip  surnamed  the  Bold,  who,  while 
a  mere  boy,  had  fought  gallantly  by  his  side  at 
Poitiers,  and  who  had  shared  the  earlier  years  of 
his  captivity. 

By  the  monarch's  desire,  however,  this  donation 
was  kept  secret  until  after  his  death,  when  it  was 
published  and  confirmed  by  his  successor, 
Charles  the  Fifth.  It  conferred  on  Philip  all 
the  rights  and  prerogatives  of  feudal  sovereignty. 


[1364.] 


VOL.  1. 


(U 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  BURGUNDIANS. 


[book  I. 


subject  to  the  usual  reservation  of  homage  and  re- 
version to  the  crown. 

It  was  in  the  fifth  century  that  the  Burgundians — 
a  tribe  of  somewhat  uncertain  origin,  but  commonly 
supposed  to  have  been  a  branch  of  the  great  Teu- 
tonic race '  —  had  forced  their  way  across  the  Rhine 
and  the  Alps,  and  founded  one  of  those  semi-barbarous 
kingdoms  which  arose  on  the  ruins  of  the  Roman 
Empire.  The  existence  of  this  kingdom  was  of  short 
duration;  but  others  succeeded,  bearing  the  same 
name,  though  comprising  a  territory  of  ill-defined 
extent  with  constantly  fluctuating  bounds.^  At  length, 
through  a  gradual  and  obscure  process  of  decay,  the 
monarchy  was  broken  up,  and  its  dissevered  portions 


I 


'  M.  de  Belloguet,  who  has  dis- 
cussed tliis  subject  with  an  erudition 
surpassing  that  of  his  predecessors, 
arrives  at  three  conclusions,  the  first 
of  which  he  regards  as  certain,  the 
latter  two  as  highly  probable :  1. 
ITiat  the  Burgurdians  were  original- 
ly Vandals.  2.  That  they  received 
an  infusion  of  new  blood,  a  race  of 
chiefs,  and  the  name  by  which  alone 
they  are  kiio  "n  in  history,  from  a 
Scandinavian  emigration.  3.  That, 
before  their  entry  into  Gaul,  they 
had  conquered  and  enslaved  some 
of  the  Roman  colonists  and  garri- 
sons established  in  Germany,  and, 
by  the  subsequent  enfranchisement 
and  affihation  of  these  captives,  had 
introduced  another  and  altogether 
foreign  element  into  their  national 
character  and  language.  See  the 
"  Questions  Bourguignonnes,"  pre- 
fixed to  the  second  edition  of  Cour- 


tepde.  Description  generalc  et  par- 
ticuliore  du  Uuchc  de  Bourgognc, 
(4  vols.  8vo,  Dijon,  1847,)  torn.  i. 
p.  14  ct  seq. 

*  According  to  Plancher,  there 
were  in  all  five  different  kingdoms 
of  Burgundy.  Some  of  them,  how- 
ever, were  called  also  by  other  names 
—  Aries,  Provence,  &c.  In  fact,  the 
Burgundian  sovereignty  was  some- 
times a  separate  and  independent, 
sometimes  a  tributary,  possession. 
At  the  period  of  its  greatest  expan- 
sion it  comprised  the  whole  country 
between  the  Vosges  and  the  Medi- 
terranean, the  Piedmontese  Alps 
and  the  mountains  of  Vivarais.  His- 
toire  de  Bourgogne,  (4  vols,  folio, 
Dijon,  1730-1783,)  tom.  i.  lib.  5. 
See  also  Gingins-la-Sarra,  Memoires 
pour  servir  Ji  I'llistoire  des  Roy- 
aumes  de  Provence  et  de  Bourgogne 
Jurane,  (Lausanne,  1851-1853.) 


ciiAr.  I.] 


FRANCE  AND  TIIE   GRT^AT  FIEFS. 


pas?!ed  into  various  hands,  and  so  ceased  to  have  a 
common  histor}'. 

One  province,  the  first  to  attain  an  independent 
existence,  but  the  last  to  rehnquish  the  common 
name,  was  ruled  over,  during  several  successive  ages, 
by  a  line  of  princes  connected  originally  by  descent 
from  the  same  stock,  and  subsequently  by  intermar- 
riage, with  the  royal  house  of  France.  Burgundy 
seems,  however,  never  to  have  been  properly  a  French 
fief,  until  at  the  death  of  Philip  de  Rouvres,  the  last 
duke  of  what  was  afterwards  to  be  known  as  the  "  first 
race,"  it  passed,  not  by  reversion  but  by  inheritance, 
to  King  John,  by  whom  it  was  disposed  of,  a  few 
years  later,  in  the  manner  already  stated. 

This  transfer,  though  dictated  by  motives  of  family 
affection,  was  in  strict  accordance  with  the  prevailing 
ideas  and  policy  of  the  age.  Feudal  obligations  were 
still  regaixled  as  the  natural  ligaments  of  the  monar- 
chy, and  were  supposed  to  be  strengthened  by  an 
additional  tie  when  the  frontier  provinces  were  be- 
stowed as  fiefs  upon  the  near  relatives  of  the  sove- 


reign. 


Yet  France  had  already  experienced  the  fatal 
effects  of  that  division  of  her  territory  whereby  the 
vital  force  that  should  have  been  equally  diffused 
throughout  the  body  politic,  furnishing  energy  and 
resources  to  the  directing  head,  had  been  confined 
to  certain  of  the  subordinate  members.  It  is  to  this 
cause,  and  not  to  any  natural  hostilitj  of  races  or 
rivalry  of  powers,  that  the  long  and  desolating  wars, 
waged  on  the  French  soil,  between  the  monarchs  of 


f 


FRANCE  AND  THE  GREAT  FIEFS. 


[book  I. 


Engliind  and  France,  are  to  be  attributed.  The 
Planttigenets  wore  vassals  of  the  French  crown;  they 
had  a  permanent  foothold  on  the  French  territory ; 
and  this  first  excited  their  ambition  to  establish  their 
supremacy  in  France,  and  enabled  them  to  seize  the 
opportunity  for  invasion  whenever  one  kingdom  was 
united  and  strong,  the  other  divided  and  powerless. 

But  the  Norman  sovereigns  of  England  were  not 
related,  at  least  by  any  close  affinity,  to  the  Capetian 
race.  They  had  acquired  their  chief  possessions  in 
France  as  they  had  acquired  the  English  crown,  not 
by  grant  or  inheritance,  but  by  the  power  of  their 
arms.  They  were  foreigners  and  open  enemies; 
their  only  adherents  in  France  were  secret  traitors 
or  avowed  rebels ;  and  they  could  not,  therefore, 
mask  their  designs  against  it  under  the  pretext  of 
serving  the  nation  and  refonning  the  state. 

France  nourished  within  her  bosom  foes  more  dan- 
gerous than  Edward  the  Third  or  Henry  the  Fifth. 
The  monarcl  .y  was  in  peril  of  being  overthrown  and 
crushed  by  what  had  been  regarded  as  its  strongest 
bulwarks.  The  dukes  of  Burgundy  were  a  branch 
of  the  house  of  Valois.  As  princes  of  the  blood 
they  claimed  a  part  in  the  management  of  the  affairs 
of  the  kingdom,  and  more  especially  the  right  to 
interfere,  on  behalf  of  the  nation,  whenever  the 
embarrassments  or  incompetence  of  the  govermnent 
occasioned  demands  for  its  reform.  At  the  same 
time  they  exercised  in  their  own  dominions,  com- 
prising some  of  the  fairest  portions  of  the  monarchy, 
a  gwpy  that  was  virtually  independent.     Beyond  the 


I 


CHAP.  I.]     STRUGGLES  OF  FEUDALISM  WITH  ROYALTY.         5 

limits  of  the  monarchy  they  acquired  territory  and 
dominion,  becoming  Hovereigns  of  foreign  states  and 
vassals  of  foreign  sovereigns.  They  used  their  power 
and  availed  themselves  of  their  position  to  weaken 
the  authority  of  the  crown  and  to  convulse  the 
realm.  They  were  the  authors  or  abettors  of  all 
the  civil  dissensions  of  the  time.  Their  court  was 
the  refuge  of  the  disaffected ;  their  wealth  furnished 
the  resources  of  rebellion ;  and  under  their  standard 
feudalism  maintained  its  last  struggle  with  royalty 
—  with  the  principles  that  were  to  form  the  basis 
of  civil  government  and  national  unity  during  the 
three  succeeding  centuries. 

The  history  of  that  struggle  forms  the  main  sub- 
ject of  the  present  wc  ^k.  The  most  conspicuous 
feature  in  the  career  of  Charles  the  Bold  is  his 
rivalry  with  Louis  the  Eleventh  —  the  perpetual 
war  which  they  waged  against  each  other,  by  force 
and  by  intrigue,  on  the  battle-field  and  in  foreign 
courts  —  a  war  never  more  real  or  more  deadly 
than  when  carried  on  under  the  show  of  peace.  In 
whatever  direction  the  narrative  may  wander,  it  is 
still  connected  with  this  central  point.  There  is  no 
digression,  no  episode,  that  does  not  gravitate  to- 
wards it.  In  the  efforts  of  Louis  to  raise  the  throne 
to  a  loftier  position,  to  establish  a  firm  government, 
to  concentrate  in  his  own  person  all  the  powers  of 
the  state,  he  was  confronted  at  every  step  by  the 
mailed  figure  of  his  haughty  vassal.  Wherever 
Charles  turned  his  ambitious  glance,  whatever  spot 
was  the  scene  of  his  daring  projects,  there  his  cun- 


6         BTRUaOLES  OF  FEUDALISM  \MTII  ROYALTY,      [uook  i. 


li 


ning  enemy  was  at  work,  sowing  distrust  among  his 
allies,  gaining  over  his  adherents  by  promises  and 
gold,  rending  his  plans,  mining  the  ground  beneath 
his  feet,  and  by  secret  machinations  preparing  his 
ruin.  It  was  such  a  contest  as  writers  of  romance 
are  fond  of  depicting,  between  combatants  dissimi- 
larly armed  and  contrasted  in  their  methods  of 
attack,  yet  not  unequally  matched; — the  one  con- 
fident in  his  superior  strength  and  stouter  weapon, 
urgent  and  daring  in  his  attempts;  the  other  agile 
and  full  of  address,  warily  parrying  the  heaviest 
strokes,  recovering  himself  when  hardest  pushed, 
and  returning  with  his  slender  rapier  swift  and 
stealthy  thrusts  that  draw  away  the  life-blood  of 
his  foe. 

Such  being  our  subject,  it  is  necessary  that  we 
should  enter  upon  it  by  a  brief  account  of  the  lead- 
ing events  of  French  history  —  which  is  also  the 
history  of  the  dukes  of  Burgundy — at  the  close  of 
the  fourteenth  and  the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth 
century.  A  meagre  and  most  imperfect  sketch  must 
serve  to  recall  to  the  reader's  mind  the  character 
of  that  momentous  epoch,  so  often  illustrated  by 
laborious  and  minute  research  and  by  the  highest 
efforts  of  historic  art.^ 


'  It  cannot  be  denied  that  the 
history  —  especially  the  mediaeval 
liistory  —  of  France  has  been  far 
more  carefully  explored  and  copi- 
ously illustrated  than  that  of  Eng- 
land. Leaving  out  of  view  the 
acknowledged    superiority    of    the 


French  chroniclers  and  the  greater 
amount  of  documentary  matter  —  at 
least  of  such  as  possesses  any  gen- 
eral interest  —  published  in  the  for- 
mer country,  no  English  writer  has 
embodied  the  national  annals  in  a 
consecutive  naiTative  with  the  full- 


OHAF.  I.] 


PinLIP  THE  BOLD. 


The  death  of  Charles  the  Fifth,— justly 
called  "the  Wise," — under  whose  skilful  rule 
the  country  had  in  some  degree  recovered  from  the 
disasters  of  the  preceding  reign,  must  in  any  event 
have  been  a  great  calamity  to  France.  Viewod  in 
connection  with  the  actual  consequences,  it  seemed 
like  a  blow  . :om  the  hand  of  a  wrathful  Providence. 
The  minority  of  Charles  the  Sixth,  and  his  subse- 
quent insanity,  the  mischievous  effects  of  which  were 
only  nggravated  by  short  but  frequent  intervals  of 
lucidity,  left  the  nation  for  nearly  half  a  century 
without  a  head.  Among  the  princes  of  the  blood, 
the  duke  of  Burgundy  alone  displayed  either  en- 
ergy or  talent.  He  stepped  before  his  two  elder 
brothers,  the  dukes  of  Anjou  and  Berri,  and  assumed 
the  largest  share  in  tlie  government  of  the   king- 


eater 

—  at 

gen- 

e  for- 

r  has 

in  a 

■  M- 


ness,  sagacity,  and  impartiality  of 
Sismondi  —  or  examined  the  causes 
of  social  and  political  revolutions 
witli  the  learning  and  philosophy  of 
Guizot  —  or  penetrated  the  meaning 
and  evoked  the  spirit  of  the  Past 
with  the  vivid  imagination  of  Miche- 
let.  The  last-mentioned  writer  has 
seldom  received  from  foreign  critics 
the  tribute  justly  due  to  his  splendid 
but  not  less  soUd  genius.  He  has 
been  called  a  poet,  a  dramatist,  any 
thing  but  what  he,  whose  pages 
more  than  those  of  any  other  writer 
reflect  the  life  and  reality  of  bygone 
ages,  is  preeminently  entitled  to  be 
called  —  a  historian.  Mr.  Hallam, 
witli  greater  candor  and  better  ap- 
preciation, styles  him  "  a  poet  in  all 
save  his  fidelity  to  truth."  No  one, 
indeed,  who  has  had  occasion  to 


study  in  the  original  sources  the  pe- 
riods which  he  has  treated  will  be 
loath  to  admit,  not  merely  the  light 
which  he  has  shed  upon  the  obscur- 
est points,  and  the  interest  which  he 
has  given  to  the  driest  details,  but 
his  extreme  accuracy,  and  the  aston- 
ishing faculty  of  condensation  which 
has  enabled  him  to  bring  together 
within  so  small  a  compass  all  that  was 
essential  in  the  way  either  of  fact  or 
illustration.  Such,  at  least,  are  the 
characteristics  of  his  earlier  volumes, 
and  especially  of  the  fourth,  fifth,  and 
sixth  —  as  M.  Henri  Martin  bears 
evidence,  who,  in  the  correspording 
portion  of  liis  popular  and  merito- 
rious work,  follows  closely  on  the 
track  of  Michelet,  confonning  almost 
always  to  his  ideas  and  not  unfre- 
quently  to  his  language. 


8 


Pmur  TIIE  BOLD. 


I'li! 


. 


[book  I. 


dom  and  the  guardianHhip  '  'he  royal  person.  Had 
his  interests  been  ident  ,ath  those  of  the  people 
over  whom  he  aspired  to  rule,  a  man  of  so  much 
resoluteness  and  ability  might  have  extirpated  the 
roots  of  discord  before  they  had  struck  deep.  But 
he  was  only  a  great  feudal  cliief,  more  ambitious 
and  more  able  than  his  rivals ;  and  his  influence  in 
the  government  was  mainly  directed  to  the  further- 
ance of  projects  for  the  aggrandizement  of  his  fam- 
ily. By  his  own  marriage  and  the  marriages  of 
hk  children,  he  had  secured  to  himself  or  his  de- 
scendants the  succession  to  the  richest  and  most 
populous  provinces  of  the  Netherlands.  He  was  in 
fact  laying  the  foundations  of  a  state  destined  one 
day  to  be  the  rival  of  France ;  and,  while  he  em- 
ployed for  this  purpose  the  resources  of  his  native 
country,  he  lost  no  opportunity  of"  strengthening 
himself  by  alliances  with  other  powers.  The  mag- 
nificence of  his  court  and  the  haughty  splendor  with 
which  he  appeared  before  the  public  eye  combined 
with  his  character  and  position  to  make  him  the 
most  conspicuous  personage  of  the  time.  But  so 
vast  were  his  schemes  and  the  expenditure  they 
entailed,  that  in  the  midst  of  wealth  he  was  over- 
whelmed with  debt ;  and  at  his  death,  his 
widow,  Margaret  of  Flanders,  whose  nature 
was  as  hard  and  unflinching  as  his  own,  in  order 
to  rescue  her  personal  effects  from  the  hands  of 
his  creditors,  had  recourse  to  a  form  of  the  feudal 
law  practised  only  by  persons  of  an  inferior  grade, 
and  publicly  laid  upon  the  cofl&n  of  her  deceased 


[1404.] 


CHAP.  I.]         PMNCES  OF  TIIE  HOUSE  OF  VALOIS.  9 

* 

lord  her  girdle,  with  her  keys  and  purse  attached, 
in  token  that  she  divorced  herself  from  him,  renoun- 
cing her  rights  of  dower  and  her  responsibility  for 
his  debts.* 

In  four  generations  of  the  house  of  Valois,  chil- 
dren and  descendants  of  King  John,  there  is  a 
remarkable  contrast  between  the  n...ntal  character- 
istics of  the  eldest  and  those  of  the  youngest  branch." 
The  princes  of  the  former  line,  however  unlike  in 
most  respects,  resembled  each  other  in  a  certain 
refinement  of  organization,  sometimes  exhibited  in 
keenness  or  subtlety  of  intellect,  sometimes  in  del- 
icacy of  feeling  or  of  taste  or  a  peculiar  sensitiveness 
of  the  conscience,  sometimes  in  timidity  of  purpose, 
indolence  of  temperament,  or  i  rersion  to  the  con- 
flict and  tumult  by  which  they  were  surrounded 
and  in  which  their  own  interests  were  deeply  con- 
cerned. At  the  height  of  fortune  there  was  no 
arrogance  in  their  demeanor,  no  idle  pomp  or  osten- 
tatious  luxury   in   their  mode   of  life  j    amid    the 


*  Monstrelet,  (ed.  Buchon,)  torn.  i.  p.  142.  —  Plancher  rejects  this 
account,  on  the  ground  that  the  notarial  act,  which  he  prints,  while  it 
eBtablishes  the  fact  of  Margaret's  renunciation  of  her  claims  and  liabil- 
ities, makes  no  allusion  to  the  ceremony  noticed  in  the  text.  Hist,  de 
Bourgogne,  tom.  iii.  p.  574,  and  Preuves,  p.  ccxix. 


Eldest  Branch. 


Charles  V. 


I 


1 


Charles   VI.       Louis  of  Orleans. 

I  I 

Charles  VII.        Charles  of  Orleans. 

I  \ 

Louis  XI.    Charles  of  BerrL 

VOL.  I.  2 


Youngest  Branch. 

Philip  the  Bold,  of  Burgundy. 

I 
John  the  Fearless,  " 

I 
Philip  the  Good,  " 

I 
Charles  the  Bold,  " 


10 


PRINCES  OF  TIIE  HOUSE  OF  VALOIS.  [book  i. 


gloomiost  reverses  they  were  never  driven  to  a  wild 
and  reckless  despair.  Sometimes  pliable,  always 
impressionable,  their  course  was  that  of  a  stream 
which,  unswollen  by  torrents,  follows  the  windings 
of  its  natural  channel.  Their  success  was  generally 
due  to  the  wisdom  of  their  conceptions,  their  just 
appreciation  of  means  and  circumstances,  and  their 
discrimination  in  the  ch(nce  of  their  agents ;  when 
they  failed,  it  was  from  lack  of  energy,  weakness 
of  will,  or  inability  to  act  with  promptitude  and 
courage.  Charles  the  Fifth  and  Louis  the  Eleventh 
were  sagacious  and  adroit  politicians ;  but  they 
missed,  or  were  thought  to  have  missed,  more  than 
one  opportunity  of  achieving  a  signal  and  complete 
success  from  their  unwillingness  to  venture  a  suffi- 
cient stake  on  the  hazards  of  w\ar.  Charles  the 
Seventh  was,  perhaps,  not  much  their  inferior  in 
natural  capacity;  but,  personally  indolent  and  ad- 
dicted to  pleasure,  he  chiefly  evinced  his  fitness  for 
affairs  by  the  moderation  of  his  views,  the  calm- 
ness of  his  temper,  and  his  sagacity  in  the  selection 
of  his  ministers.  Both  Louis  and  Charles  of  Orleans 
were  highly  accomplished  men,  patrons  and  culti- 
vators of  literature,  well  suited  to  adorn  a  private 
station,  but  destitute  of  the  qualities  required  for 
a  great  position  and  the  career  of  public  life. 
In  Charles  the  Sixth  and  his  grandson,  the  duke 
of  Berri,  the  defects  of  this  character  are  revealed 
in  the  strongest  light :  one  was  driven  mad  by  the 
mad  conflict  of  the   times;   the   other,  feeble   and 


CHAP.  1.]         PRINCES  OF  TIIE  HOUSE  OF  VALOIS. 


11 


!ulti- 

livate 

for 

life. 

tliikc 

saled 

the 

and 


incompetent,  was  tossed  about  like  a  feather  in  the 
whirlwind  of  faction  and  civil  war. 

If  the  attempt  be  thought  fanciful  to  trace  a  fam- 
ily likeness  in  persons  so  variously  constituted  and 
endowed,  it  will  at  least  be  admitted  that  in  none 
of  them  are  the  features  stamped  with  those  rude 
and  turbulent  passions,  that  boldness  of  temper  and 
that  ferocity  of  sentiment,  which  glare  upon  us  from 
so  many  faces  in  the  long  vista  of  mediaeval  history. 
Their  physiognomy  has,  so  to  speak,  an  altogether 
modern  air,  indicating,  in  its  contrast  vdth  that  of 
their  contemporaries,  the  approach  of  a  new  era  — 
a  change  from  what  seems  the  mere  contention  of 
brute  force  to  the  finer  displays  of  an  intellectual 
contest ;  and  that  change  is,  in  fact,  partly  attribu- 
table to  the  example  and  influence  of  those  who, 
foremost  in  the  arena,  were  victorious  by  their  greater 
skill  and  the  superiority  of  their  weapons." 

In  the  four  dukes  of  Burgundy,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  material  of  the  character  was  coarser  and  more 
robust  —  a  nature  better  suited,  it  might  seem,  for 
a  struggle  with  matter  than  with  mind.  Physically 
they  were  superior  to  their  kinsmen.  Charles  the 
Seventh,  we  are  told,  had  an  imposing  exterior  — 
when  arrayed  in  a  long  robe  that  covered  up  his 
crooked  and  shrunken  legs.'    The  mean  and  meagre 

*  See  the  remarks  of  Guizot  on  ganti  specie   apparebat ;    sed  cum 

the  substitution  by  Louis  XI.  of  curta  veste  indueretur,  quod  facie- 

moral  for  material  means.    Civili-  bat  frequentius,  panno  viridis  utens 

zation   in   Europe,    (Eng.   trans.,)  coloris,  eum  exilitas  cruris  et  tibia- 

p.  321.  nim,  cum  utriusque  poplitis  tumorc 

'  "  Cum  togatus  esset,  satis  ele-  et  versus  se  invicem  quadam  velut 


12 


PRINCES  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  VALOIS. 


[book  I. 


person  of  Louis  the  Eleventh  formed  a  common  sub- 
ject of  derision.  Charles  the  Sixth  and  Charles  of 
Berri  were  almost  as  feeble  in  body  as  in  intellect. 
But  the  dukes  of  Burgundy  were  cast  in  a  different 
mould.  Their  limbs  were  stout,  their  forms  were 
sinewy  and  compact.  They  were  redoubtable  in 
the  tourney,  terrible  in  the  battle-field.  Their  men- 
tal qualities  were  of  the  same  hard  and  inflexible 
stuff  Arrogant  audacity,  headstrong  impetuosity, 
unyielding  stubbornness,  were  their  main  charac- 
teristics. They  never  won  their  way  by  flattery, 
sophistry,  or  cunning,  but  sought  to  carry  every 
point  by  an  overbearing  presiunption  and  indom- 
itable will.  The  epithets  affixed  to  their  names 
were, "the  Bold,"  "the  Rash,"  "the  Fearless";'  those 
of  the  other  line  were,  "the  Wise,"  "the  Cunning," 
"the  Well-served."  There  was  no  strain  of  delicate 
and  intuitive  perceptions  in  any  of.. the  Burgundian 
princes ;  there  was  no  poet  among  them  like  Charles 
of  Orleans,  no  scholar,  versed  in  the  subtleties  of 
the  schools,  like  Louis  of  Orleans,  no  far-sighted 
statesman  like  Charles  the  Fifth,  no  master  of  in- 
trigue like  Louis  the  Eleventh,  no  shrinking  spirit. 


i  i 


inflexione,  deformem  utcumque  os- 
tentabant."  Histoire  des  Rognes  de 
Charles  VII.  et  de  Louis  XL,  par 
Thomas  Basin,  Evcque  de  Lisieux, 
(3  vols.,  Paris,  18ou-1858,)  torn.  i.  p. 
312.  —  This  work,  one  of  the  most 
important  though  least  impartial  au- 
thorities for  the  period  of  which  it 
treats,  is  usually  cited  by  French 
historians  under  the  pseudonym  of 
Amelgardus.  M.Quich3rat,bywhom 


it  has  been  edited  and  published  for 
the  first  time,  has  fully  established 
the  identity  of  the  author  —  a  dis- 
tinguished Norman  prelate  and  an 
active  partisan  in  the  reign  of  Louis 
XL 

*  Philip  the  Good,  as  we  shall  see 
hereafter,  was  not  indebted  for  this 
very  different  cognomen  to  any  ex- 
emption from  the  peculiarities  of  his 
race. 


CHAP.  I.]         PRINCES  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  VALOIS. 


18 


unnerved  by  scruples,  distracted  by  calamity,  like 
Charles  the  Sixth  and  the  duke  of  Berri.  Yet  in 
some  respects  their  nature  was  the  nobler  of  the 
two.  If  less  acute,  they  were  more  ardent;  if  less 
persuasive,  they  were  more  logical;  if  less  ductile 
and  less  humane,  they  were  more  equitable  and 
more  trustworthy.  They  were  better  fathers  and 
better  sons;  and  if  unrelenting  in  their  hate  and 
remorseless  in  their  vengeance,  they  never  deserted 
an  ally,  left  fidelity  unrewarded,  or  receiving  ben- 
efits forgot  the  benefactor.  Their  intellect  was 
vigorous,  their  conceptions  were  sometimes  lofty, 
their  plans  coherent,  their  energies  untiring.  They 
labored  with  strength  and  skill,  but  with  little  light, 
building  where  the  ancient  dikes  had  been  de- 
stroyed, and  where  the  tide  was  rushing  in  to  sweep 
away  their  work. 

These,  it  will  be  said,  were  the  general  lineaments 
of  the  era  that  was  passing  away  —  its  iron  force, 
its  narrow  and  exclusive  spirit.  This  is  true ;  and 
it  was  because  the  dukes  of  Burgundy  not  only 
held  the  most  conspicuous  place  among  feudal 
princes,  but  exhibited  alike  in  their  powers  and 
their  defects  the  complete  impress  of  feudalism, 
that  its  fate  became  involved  in  theirs,  and  was 
decided  by  their  overthrow. 

In  John  the  Fearless,  the  successor  of  Philip  the 
Bold,  the  faults  inherent  in  his  race  assumed  their 
most  repulsive  form.  His  habitual  taciturnity  masked 
a  contracted  mind  and  a  character  singularly  auda- 
cious (ind  unscrupulous.     In  such  natures  ambition, 


^f 


14 


DUKES  OF  BURGUNDY  AND  ORLEANS.        [book  i. 


unennobled  by  conscious  power,  by  patient  hopes, 
or  generous  purposes,  becomes  a  sordid  passion, 
which  encounters  obstacles  with  a  sullen  violence, 
and  regards  a  competitor  with  envious  and  malig- 
nant eyes.  Between  John  and  the  object  of  his 
ambition  stood  a  rival,  in  whose  character  he  saw 
with  instinctive  aversion  the  opposite  of  his  own. 
Louis,  duke  of  Orleans,  the  brother  of  the  insane 
king,  had  rare  endowments  of  intellect  and  splen- 
did accomplishments  of  person  and  of  mind,  which 
would  have  opened  an  easy  path  to  distinction  to 
one  of  inferior  rank.^  But  his  vices  were  as  con- 
spicuous as  the  nobler  traits  of  his  character;  and, 
as  they  were  not  such  vices  as  are  engendered  by 
the  steady  and  cautious  pursuit  of  self-interest,  they 
excited  in  the  public  mind  not  only  scandal  but 
alarm.  In  concert  with  the  queen,  the  infamous 
Isabella  of  Bavaria,  with  whom  he  "was  suspected 
of  maintaining  an  incestuous  intimacy,  the  duke  of 
Orleans  had  for  several  years  attempted  to  admin- 
ister the  affairs  of  the  kingdom.  If  it  had  been 
possible  to  misgovern  the 'nation  without  calling  on 
it  to  defray  the  cost  of  misgovernment,  the  people 
would  have  suffered  in  apathy.  Conscious  of  its 
feebleness,  France  did  not  aspire  to  action ;  it 
longed  only  for  repose.  In  the  condition  of  the 
royal   imbecile,   whom   it   regarded   with    so   much 

'  See  the  cliaracter  (partial,  no  intimate  knowledge)  drawn  of  him 

doubt,  since  it  represents  his  life  as  by  the  Iteligieux  de    Saint-Denys, 

free  from  stain  after  he  Iiad  attained  Chronique,  ((5  vols.  4to.,  Paris,  1839 

to  manhood,  but  bearing,  neverthc-  -18J2,)  torn.  iii.  p.  738. 
less,  marks  of  veracity  as  well  as  of 


CHAP.  I.]       DUKES  OF  BURGUNDY  AND  ORLEANS. 


16 


reverence  and  affection,  with  loyalty  and  with  pity 
unblended  with  contempt,  it  saw  the  image  of 
its  own.  It  would  fain  like  him  have  moped  in 
quiet  and  inanity ;  but  like  him  it  was  harassed 
by  quacks  and  tortured  into  frciizy. 

By  the  people,  and  especially  by  the  inhabitants 
of  Paris  and  the  larger  towns,  the  duke  of  Orleans 
was  regarded  as  the  author  of  their  calamities,  the 
duke  of  Burgundy  as  their  destined  deliverer.  The 
latter  would  be  able  to  carry  on  the  government 
without  taxes.  The  lord  of  wealthy  Flanders  would 
not  need  to  wring  from  the  impoverished  citizens 
their .  miserable  earnings.  He  had  strenuously  pro- 
tested against  the  imposition  of  these  intolerable 
burdens,  declaring  that  the  revenues  derived  from 
the  royal  domain  ought  to  suffice  for  the  ordinary 
expenses  of  the  state.  If  forces  were  required  for 
the  defence  of  the  realm,  his  subjects  were  ready 
to  obey  the  summons  of  the  king,  and  take  the 
field  in  numbers  sufficient  for  that  purpose.  Such 
were  the  representations  industriously  circulated  by 
his  agents,  and  received  with  easy  credence  by  the 
people.'" 

The  people,  however,  was  still  too  weak  to  be  the 
arbiter  of  such  a  quarrel.  The  duke  of  Orleans  was 
supported  not  only  by  his  own  vassals,  but  by  the 
great  body  of  the  nobility.  In  military  strength  the 
two  parties,  as  they  mustered  around  the  capital, 
were  nearly  equally  balanced.      Hence   they  were 

'»  Religieux  de  Saint-Denys,  torn.  iii.  300,  302,  340,  ct  al.  — Basin, 
torn.  i.  lib.  1,  cap.  3,  4. 


rW 


16 


DUKES  OF  BURGUNDY  AND  ORLEANS.        [book  i. 


'4 


If 


induced  to  listen  to  the  proposals  of  those  who 
desired  to  avert  the  outbreak  of  civil  war.  It  was 
agreed  that  the  two  princes  should  govern  in  con- 
cert, and  unite  their  efforts  for  the  restoration  of 
order  and  tranquillity.  And,  although  events  soon 
demonstrated  the  futility  of  this  arrangement,  it 
was  renewed  and  confirmed  by  solemn  assurances 
and  pledges  of  mutual  good  fiiith.  The  princes  met 
in  public  and  embraced  each  other ;  they  exchanged 
the  devices  which  they  had  adopted  as  the  symbols 
of  defiance ;  they  slept  in  the  same  bed ;  they  par- 
took together  of  the  communion,  and  in  presence 
of  the  consecrated  elements  ratified  their  alliance 
by  solemn  vows. 

In  this  reconciliation  the  intentions  of  Louis  of 
Orleans  were  perhaps  not  insincere.  He  was  a  man 
capable  of  deeply  injuring  his  dearest  friend,  but 
capable  also  of  forpjiving,  and  from  the  heart,  his 
bitterest  enemy."  He  had  on  his  conscience  the 
burden  of  great  sins  and  disastrous  follies.  But  the 
consciousness  of  guilt  had  not  hardened  his  heart, 
or  extinguished  its  finer  feelings.  He  had  recently 
recovered  from  an  illness,  during  which  he  had  med- 
itated upon  the  errors  of  his  past  life,  and  given 
evidence  of  a  sincere  contrition.  He  had  especially 
manifested  a  desire,  such  as  men  feel  when  inv/ard 
perplexities  cause  the  struggles  of  the  world  to  fade 

"  In  his  will,  made   about  this  dren  to  the  protection  cf  the  duke 

period,  —  "  testament  fort  chrctien,  of  Burgundy.     Michelet,   Ilist.  de 

fort   pieux,  jjlein  de  charite  et  de  France,  torn.  iv.  p.  Ml. 
pdnitence,"  —  he  commends  his  chil- 


[book 


CHAP.  1.]      ASSASSINATION  OF  LOUIS  OF  ORLEANS. 


17 


ose  who 
It  was 
I  in  con- 
ation  of 
mts  soon 
ement,  it 
Lssurances 
•inces  met 
jxcliangcd 
le  symbols 
tliey  par- 
1  presence 
ir   alliance 

f  Louis  of 
1  was  a  man 
fi:iend,  but 
heart,  his 
science  the 
But  the 
his  heart, 
[ad  recently 
.0  had  med- 
and    given 
d  especially 
Ihen  inward 
orld  to  fade 

lion  cf  the  duke 
Tchelet,  llist.  de 
llll. 


into  insignificance,  to  live  in  future  at  peace  with 
all  men.  On  the  evening  of  November  23,  1407, 
while  he  was  supping  with  the  queen  at  a  small 
private  mansion  which  belonged  to  her  in  Paris,  a 
summons  was  brought  him  to  attend  a  sitting  of 
the  council.  The  house  stood  in  an  obscure  quarter 
of  the  town.  He  quitted  it  with  an  escort  of  four 
or  five  persons.  The  night  was  intensely  dark.  Pre- 
ceded by  a  torchbearer,  and  followed  by  the  rest  of 
his  attendants,  the  duke  rode  along  upon  bis  mule, 
humming  a  song  and  carelessly  playing  with  his 
glove.  Suddenly  he  was  surrounded  by  armed  men, 
who  rushed  upon  him  from  an  ambush.  His  fol- 
lowers, with  the  exception  of  a  single  page,  were 
separated  from  him  and  put  to  flight.  The  inhab- 
itants of  the  street,  siunmoned  to  their  wmdows  by 
a  tumult  of  voices,  the  clanking  of  ste'^1  and  the 
glare  of  torches,  were  warned  by  a  stern  command 
to  close  their  lattices  and  remain  within  doors.  Peer- 
ing and  listening,  however,  they  could  distinguish 
every  sight  and  sound  —  the  swords  and  axes  bran- 
dished by  the  murderers,  their  oaths  and  shouts,  the 
challenge  of  the  victim  after  he  had  been  struck, — 
"What  means  this?  whence  comes  this?"  —  the 
repetition  of  the  blows  and  thrusts,  the  struggle,  the 
fall,  the  consummation  of  the  bloody  deed.  A  tall 
man  with  a  red  hat  slouched  over  his  eyes  made 
his  appearance  to  investigate  the  work  and  decide 
whether  it  were  satisfactorily  performed.'-     Another 

"  Tliis  personage  was  probably    gentleman,  who  had  been  deprived 
RaouUet    d'Actonville,   a    Norman    by  the  duke  of  Orleans  of  an  office 
VOL.  I.  3 


i 


18 


ASSASSINATION  OF  LOUIS  OF  ORLEANS.      [book  i. 


stroke  wus  given,  to  complete  the  assurance.  Then 
the  assailants  ha-stcned  away,  the  lights  disappeared, 
the  narrow  street  was  again  silent  and  dark.  The 
,trembling  spectators,  now  thronging  to  the  spot, 
found  the  body  of  the  duke  of  Orleans,  gashed, 
mutilated,  pierced  in  a  hundred  places.  The  right 
arm  was  severed  from  the  trunk ;  the  left  hand,  cut 
off  at  the'  wrist,  had  been  thrown  to  a  distance  ;  the 
intestines  had  gushed  forth ;  the  skull  was  crushed, 
and  the  brains  were  scattered  in  the  mud.  The 
l^ago  lay  stretched  across  his  dead  master,  not  wholly 
lifeless,  but  moaning  and  about  to  expire.'* 

This  murder  was  the  source  of  greater  public 
calamities  than  have  resulted  from  any  similar  event 
recorded  in  history.  Long  after  it  had  been  signally 
avenged,  the  blood  thus  shed  continued  to  be  the 
cause  of  bloodshed.  It  fecundated  the  pestilential 
seeds  which  had  lain  undeveloped  and  inert.  A 
hydra-headed  mischief  sprang  into  existence,  with 
which  human  energy  seemed  powerless  to  cope.'^ 
And  even  after  this  had  been  destroyed,  and  when 
more  than  a  century  had  elapsed,  the  traditional  and 


conferred  upon  him  by  Philip  the 
Bold.  (Monstrelet,  torn.  i.  p.  214.) 
He  is  mentioned  by  m  )St  of  the  au- 
thorities as  having  planned  or  con- 
ducted the  affair. 

"  See  the  depositions  of  the  wit- 
nesses —  terribly  minute  and  graphic 
—  in  the  Hist,  de  I'Acadt'mie  des 
Inscriptions,  tom.  xxi.  p.  515-540, 
where  M.  Bonamy  has  collected  all 
the  testimony  on  the  subject,  besides 
identifying  the  spot  where  the  mur- 


der was  committed  and  giving  a  plan 
of  the  locality. 

"  "  Caput  et  origo  omnium  ca- 
lamitatum  in  regno.  .  .  .  Semiiiarium 
illud  pestiferum  .  .  .  adeo  alte  radi- 
ces miserat,  ut  vix  post  annos  quin- 
quaginta  exstirpari  atquc  eradicari 
potuerit;  imo  certe  iicc  adhuc,  his 
temporibus,  prorsus  cxstinctum  sit, 
sed  more  hydra>  serpentis,  uno  suc- 
ciso  capite,  alia  rcnascantur."  Basin, 
tom  i.  p.  11,44. 


«L 


S.      [book  I. 


CHAP.  *.] 


JOHN  THE  FEARLESS  CONFESSES. 


19 


ce.  Then 
^appeared, 
ark.  The 
the  spot, 
s,  gashed, 
The  right 
1  hand,  cut 
.ance ;  the 
,8  crushed, 
nud.  The 
not  wholly 

ter   public 

Hilar  event 

en  signally 

to  be  the 

estilontial 

inert.     A 

lence,  with 

to  cope.^'' 

and  when 

itional  and 

Id  giving  a  plan 

omnium  ca- 

.  Seminarium 

Idco  alte  radi- 

jst  nnnos  quiii- 

Itqnc  eradicari 

lice  adhuc,  his 

kstinctum  sit, 

pntis,  uno  suc- 

(antur."  Basin, 


hereditary  quarrel  thus  commenced  served  to  embitr 
ter  the  relations  and  perpetuate  the  rivalry  between 
the  sovereigns  of  France  and  of  the  Netherlands.^^ 

Nor  was  the  immediate  impression  on  the  public 
mind  less  than  such  a  deed  was  calculated  to  produce. 
Men  stood  paralyzed  as  they  beheld  the  form  so 
familiar  to  their  eyes  —  a  form  so  fair,  associated  in 
their  minds  with  much  that  was  evil,  but  also  with 
much  that  was  chivalrous  and  good  —  carried  bloody 
and  inanimate  through  the  streets  of  Paris.  If  he  had 
sinned  deeply,  so  much  deeper  the  guilt  of  those  who 
had  treacherously  cut  him  off  in  the  midst  of  his 
sins.  And  no  one  doubted  by  what  hand  the  blow 
had  been  given.  All  eyes  turned  from  the  corpse  of 
the  murdered  man  to  the  kinsman  who  had  so  lately 
sworn  to  live  with  him  in  fraternal  peace.'**  When 
the  officers  appointed  to  search  out  the  guilty  parties 
appeared  before  the  council,  and  asked  for  authority 
to  pursue  their  investigations  in  the  households  of 
the  royal  princes,  John  the  Fearless  turned  pale 
and  trembled.  Taking  the  dukes  of  Berri  and  Anjou 
aside,  he  confessed  to  them  that  he,  "  instigated  by 
the  devil   and  by  evil  counsellors,"  had  caused  his 


"*  It  is  to  be  remembered,  in  this 
connection,  that,  about  a  century 
later,  the  family  of  Orleans  came  to 
the  French  throne  in  the  persons  of 
Louis  XII.  and  Francis  I.  One 
lamiliar  with  the  diplomatic  corre- 
spondence and  conferences  between 
the  French  and  ImperiiJ  ministers 
in  the  sixteenth  century  —  when  it 
was  customary  to  discuss  the  histor- 
ical questions  coimected  with  every 


point  from  their  remotest  origin  — 
will  probably  not  consider  the  state- 
ment in  the  text  exaggerated. 

'*  Fenin,  after  mentioning  that 
the  duke  of  Burgundy  was  present 
at  the  burial,  adds  that  blood  was 
seen  to  flow  through  the  coffin: 
"  Dont  y  en  eut  grant  murmure  de 
ceux  qui  lil  estoient,  et  de  tels  y  en  eut 
qui  bien  se  doubtoient  de  ce  qui  en 
estoit."  Memoires,  (ed.  Dupont,)  p. 3. 


I 


20 


JOIIX  TIIE  FEARI.ESS  COXFESSES. 


[nooK  T. 


cousin  to  be  slain.''  Then,  in  the  confusion  and 
shame  of  avowed  guilt,  he  abruptly  quitted  the 
assembly,  and  withdrew  to  his  own  house. 

A  great  criminal,  convicted  in  the  presence  of 
mankind,  but  inaccessible  to  human  justice,  has 
before  him  tliis  alternative :  to  repent  of  his  crime, 
to  expiate  it,  to  renounce  the  unhallowed  fruits  of 
it;  or  to  brave  his  own  conscience,  to  defy  the 
opinion  of  his  fellow-men,  and  boldly  to  seize  upon 
the  prize  the  hojjc  of  which  had  tempted  him  to 
the  commission  of  the  guilty  act.  He  has  incurred 
the  detestation  of  the  world :  if  he  would  avoid  its 
scorn,  he  nmst  strike  terror  into  it,  or  he  must  sur- 
render his  immunities  and  sue  for  its  forgiveness. 
Throughout  the  Middle  Ages  there  had  not  been 
wanting  instances  of  great  nobles  and  princes  who, 
midway  in  a  career  of  guilty  jHnbition,  had  been 
suddenly  arrested  by  the  alarms  of  conscience,  and 
wdio,  parting  with  rank  and  wealth,  had  spent  the 
remainder  of  their  days  in  seclusion,  penance,  and 
remorse. 

But  in  the  breast  of  John  the  Fearless  the  voice 
of  self-reproach  and  self-abhorrence  was  quickly 
stifled.  The  evil  spirit  that  had  instigated  him 
reassumed  its  sway.  On  the  day  following  that  on 
which  confession  had  been  wrung  from  him  by  a 
torture  stronger  than  the  rack,  he  would  again  have 
taken  his  seat  among   the   princes  at   the  council- 

"  "  Instiguante  dyabolo."    Reli-    Chartier.  — "  Par  I'introduction  de 
gicux  de  Saint-Denys. — "  Par  hayne    I'ennemi."    Monstrelet. 
diabolique  et  maidvais  conseil."Alain 


i 


CHAP.  I.] 


HIS  JTSTIFirATIOX. 


21 


board,  find,  being  forbidden  to  enter  the  palace, 
ir^ent  them  word  to  charge  no  one  else  with  what 
had  been  done,  since  he  was  himself  the  sole  author 
of  the  act,'^  He  immediately  quitted  Paris,  and, 
though  hotly  pursued,  succeeded  in  making  his  es- 
cape to  Flanders.  Here  he  was  not  only  safe,  but 
able  to  turn  upon  his  enemies.  Having  collected 
a  sufficient  force  for  his  protection,  he  again  took 
his  way  towards  the  capital,  which  he  reentered 
amidst  the  greetings  and  triumphant  shouts  of  the 
inhabitants.  This  was  not  altogether  fear,  or  fickle- 
ness, or  indiiference  to  the  right,  but  a  revulsion 
of  feeling,  to  be  explained  by  their  long  adherence 
to  the  duke  of  Bui'gundy,  and  the  hopes  and  con- 
fidence which  had  centred  in  him  .is  the  champion 
of  their  rights.'*'  They  would  have  condemned  him 
still,  had  he  still  seemed  to  condemn  himself  But 
he  was  ready  now  to  uphold  what  he  had  done, 
to  justify  it  by  such  reasons  as  showed  them  to 
h.'tve  been  accessories  to  the  deed,  and  made  them 
participants   in   the  advantages    that  were    to   flow 


'*•  "  Affin  qu'on  nc  meacroj'e  mie 
de  la  mort  du  due  D'Ork-ans,  j'ay 
faict  faire  ce  qui  a  este  faict,  ct  non 
autre."    Feiiin,  p.  4. 

"  ITallam  (Supplemental  Notes, 
p.  57)  finds  it  inexplicable  that  ^Ti- 
chelet  should  represent  tlie  jiopida^- 
of  Paris,  the  adherents  of  John,  as 
lamenting  the  death  of  the  didic  of 
Orleans.  "  What,"  he  asks,  "  is  the 
meaning  of  this  love  for  one  who. 
he  has  just  told  us,  was  cursed  by 
the  people?     How  did  they  show 


their  affection  for  the  duke  of  Or- 
leans when  they  were  openly  and 
vehemently  the  partisans  of  his  mur- 
derer ?  "  And  he  cites  their  recep- 
tion of  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  on  his 
return,  as  sufficient  to  refute  this  no- 
tion. ]5ut  the  inconsistency,  if  such 
it  can  be  tailed,  belongs  not  to  the 
historian,  but  to  human  nature.  Was 
not  IJyion  admired,  pitied,  and  even 
beloved,  by  those  whose  censure  and 
coldness  cb'ove  liim  into  e.\ile  ? 


22 


HIS  JUSTIFICATION. 


[nooK  I. 


i 


from  it.  While  the  ghastly  spectacle  was  still  ex- 
posed to  sight,  their  faltering  spirit  had  infected  his. 
They  were  now  called  upon  to  collect  their  scattered 
senses,  and  recognize  in  the  blow  that  had  been 
struck  the  deliverance  which  they  had  expected  at 
his  hands.  He  had  brought  with  him  a  learned 
theologian,  a  doctor  of  the  University  of  Paris,  to 
act  as  his  spokesman,  and  set  forth  the  motives  by 
which  he  had  been  governed ;  to  prove  that  the 
duke  of  Orleans,  as  a  tyrant  and  a  usurper,  had 
merited  death ;  that  any  subject,  but  above  all  any 
member  of  the  royal  family,  had  the  right  to  kill 
him ;  that  the  duke  of  Burgundy  ought  not  to  have 
been  restrained  by  the  promises  and  oaths  which 
he  had  made,  since  these  had  been  prejudicial  to 
the  public  welfare;  and  tiiat  the  manner  of  the 
killing  was  indifferent,  treachery  and  secret  aml)us- 
cade  being  in  such  a  case  the  natural  means  for 
its  accomplishment.  All  this  was  supported  and 
illustrated  by  many  examples  from  Holy  Writ,  and 
the  conclusion  satisfactorily  deduced  that  the  act 
had  been  not  merely  innocent,  but  in  the  highest 
degree  meritorious.^ 

Yet  those  who  heard  this  discourse  were  not  alto- 
gether satisfied.^^  Nor  was  the  murderer.  The 
brazen  pride  with  which  he  fronted  accusation  and 
reproach  was  a  mask  that  but  half  concealed  the 
traces  of  his  conscious  humiliation.    Something  more 

**  The    admirable    discourse    of  *'  See  tlie  cautiously  worded  cen- 

Maitre  Jean  Petit  is  given  at  length  sure  of  the  Religieux  de  Suint-Dcnys, 

by  Monstrelet,  (ecL  Buchon,)  torn.  i.  >vho  was  present.     Clu'onique,  torn, 

pp.  241-324.  iiL  p.  765. 


CHAP.  1.] 


ANARCHY  IN  FRANCE. 


23 


was  necessary  to  purge  liis  mind  of  its  uneasy  een- 
Kations.  He  insisted  that  the  young  princes  of 
Orleans,  the  children  of  his  victim,  should  consent 
to  a  reconciliation  with  him.  But,  coupled  with  the 
justification  which  he  had  put  forth,  his  prayer  for 
forgiveness  sounded  like  a  fresh  insult  to  the  dead. 


By  the  perpetration  of  an  enormous  crime  the 
duke  of  Burgundy  seemed  to  have  cut  his  way 
through  the  sole  obstruction  in  his  path,  and  to 
have  reached  at  once  the  supremacy  to  which  he 
had  aspired  in  the  government  of  France.  But  this 
crime  had  in  fact  rendered  all  government  impos- 
sible. It  had  let  loose  a  storm  of  turbulent  pas- 
sions that  had  long  been  gathering  in  the  atmos- 
phere ;  it  had  stirred  up  all  the  hostile  elements 
of  society  in  a  wild  vortex  of  confusion.  What  fol- 
lowed was  not  so  much  civil  war  as  total  anarchy, 
the  disorganization  of  the  political  and  social  sys- 
tems. Out  of  these  disorders  grew  a  foreign  war, 
the  invasion  and  conquest  of  the  country  by  Henry 
the  Fifth.  A  stern  and  powerful  enemy  stood  over 
prostrate  France,  inflicting  wounds  from  which  the 
blood  floAved  in  a  perpetual  stream. 

The  light  of  history  becomes  here  a  lurid  gleam, 
and  reveals  a  stage  crowded  with  demoniacal  shapes, 
that  pursue  each  other  through  the  mazes  of  what  is 
called  by  a  contemporary  writer  a  "  doleful  dance."  ^-' 

*°  "  Non  pas  un  an  ne  deux,  mais  en  sont  morts  h  glaive,  ou  par  poi- 

il  y  a  ja  quatorze  ou  quinze  ans  que  son,  ou  par  trayson."     Journid  de 

cette  danse  douloiireuse  commen(,'a ;  Paris  sous  les  Regnes  de  Chai-les  VI. 

et  la  plus  grant  partie  des  seigneui's  et  de  Charles  VII.,  anno  1421. 


V 


l\ 


24 


DEPOPULA'nON  OF  TIIE  COUNTRY. 


[OOOK  I. 


The  crowTi  rested  on  the  lioad  of  a  lunatic.  The 
fliscord  in  the  royal  fimiily  and  the  royal  counsels 
prevented  any  serious  eftbrt  to  restore  order  and 
tranquillit}-.  The  voice  of  authority  was  not  merely 
unheedt'd,  hut  uuheard. 

The  administration  of  the  law,  so  far  as  the  pro- 
tection of  life  or  property  was  concerned,  was 
entirely  suspended.  Murder  and  rapine  no  longer 
sought  their  prey  by  stealth,  or  waited  for  the 
darkness  to  conceal  their  work.  The  country  was 
covered  with  armed  bands,  wearing  the  badges  of 
Burgundy  or  the  Armagnacs,  but  sulyect  in  fact  to 
no  otiier  leader  than  him  who  could  best  scent  the 
plunder  and  guide  them  in  the  pursuit.  These 
brigands  infested  every  highway,  and  ra\aged  vil- 
lages and  farms,  pursuing  the  work  of  destruction 
without  hluderance  and  without  fciw.  The  peasantry, 
driven  to  despair,  abandoned  at  length  their  ruined 
homes  and  wasted  fields,  their  Avives  and  children, 
their  life  of  industry  and  care,  and  fled  in  troops  to 
the  refuge  of  the  t.  Ivk  forests,  seeking  sustenance 
with  the  wild  beasts,  crouching  from  the  sunlight 
that  shone  upon  an  earth  of  which  the  devil,  they 
exclaimed,  was  about  to  take  entire  possession.'^^ 

France  had  never  been  a  connnerclal  country. 
It  had  few  great  market  towns,  few  public  fairs,  and 
these  were  scarcely  visited  by  the  foreign  merchant. 


'.4 


"  "  Disant  I'luif?  fi  I'autre,  '  Que  nyer  femmcs  et  enffans,  et  fouir  aux 
ferons  nuus  ?  Mettons  tout  cu  hi  boy.s  comme  bestes  esgarees.' "  Jour- 
main  (lu  doable,  ne  nous  chault  que  nal  de  I'uri.s,  loc.cit.  And  see  Basil), 
nous  devemons ;  .  . .  il  nous  fault  re-  torn.  i.  p.  1 5,  et  al. 


CHAr.  1.]  DEPOPULATION  OF  THE  COUNTRY. 


25 


But  now  even  domestic  trade  luid  dinappeared. 
Production  itself  was  at  a  stand-ntill.  Those  parts 
of  the  country  wliich  had  the  richest  soil,  and  had 
formerly  furnished  the  largest  supplies  of  food^  re- 
turned to  the  condition  of  wild  lands.  An  eyewit- 
ness describes  the  vast  and  fertile  plains  of  Nor- 
mandy, Picardy,  Cliampagne,  and  La  Brie  as  almost 
entirely  depopulated,  overgrown  with  bushes  and 
wild  brambles,  and  even  in  many  parts  —  so  long 
did  this  state  of  things  continue  —  with  dense  and 
lofty  forests.'-'  The  fields  were  tilled  only  within 
such,  a  distance  of  towns  or  castles  as  allowed  the 
laborers,  when  the  enemy  came  in  sight,  to  summon 
assistance  with  their  horns ;  -*  but  the  patches  from 
which  a  furtive  harvest  was  thus  gathered  were  as 
nothing  compared  with  the  immense  region  that 
lay  sterile  and  deserted.^'" 

If  we  enter  the  walled  cities,  thus  isolated  by  a 
perpetual  blockade,  a  still  more  fearful  spectacle 
presents  itself     A  citizen  of  Paris,  who  in  the  sim- 


ct  fouir  aux 


'*  "  Vidimus  ipsi  Campaiiinc  totius 
vastissimos  ajjfros,  totius  Helcia', 
Briir,  Gustinati,  Carnotuusis,  l)ro- 
censis,  CcnomannitP  et  Pertici,  Vel- 
locussium  sou  Vulj^acinoruin,  tarn 
Franciu',  quam  Xonnaniiia",  IJello- 
vaccnsium,  Caletensium,  a  Scquana 
usque  Anibiauis  ct  Abbatisvillam, 
Silvanecteusiiiin,  Suessioaum  etVa- 
lisiorum  usque  Laudunam,  et  ultra 
versus  Ilannoniam,  prr  rsus  desertos, 
incultos,  squulidos  et  colonis  nuda- 
tos,  dumotis  et  vuhis  oppletos,  atque 
illic  ia  pleris(|ue  tcrris,  qua>  ad  pro- 
ferendas  arhorcs  feraciores  exsistunt, 
VOL.  I.  4 


arbores  in  morem  densissimarum  sil- 
varum  excrevisse."  Basin,  torn,  i. 
p.  45.    Sec  also  p.  US,  et  al. 

"^  Idem,  torn.  i.  p.  45.  —  lie  adds 
that  the  cattle  and  swine,  becoming 
accustomed  to  the  signal,  fled,  with- 
out waiting  to  be  driven,  to  their 
places  of  refuge. 

•J6  i.  Tantillum  illud  quod  veluti 
furtim  circum  mnuitiones  colebatur, 
minimum  ct  propc  nihil  videbatur, 
comparatione  vnstissimorum  agro- 
rum,  qui  deserti  ])rorsus  et  sine 
cultoribus  permanebant."  Idem, 
p.  46. 


26 


MASSACRES  IX  PARIS. 


[book  I. 


plest  language  noted  down  from  day  to  day  the 
occurrences  that  can:^  luider  his  own  observation, 
has  left  us  the  means  of  making  this  survey.  Terror 
reig\ied  in  that  capital  w^here  it  has  so  often  sat 
enthroned.  Princes  and  ministers,  the  University 
and  the  Parliament,  the  nobles  and  the  bourgeoisie, 
having  successively  failed  in  the  attempt  to  devise 
a  practicable  system  of  government,  to  restore  order 
and  peace,  tu  replace  on  its  original  foundations  the 
structure  that  had  been  overturned,  the  task  was 
undertaken  by  the  lowest  classes  of  the  populace, 
the  rabble  and  the  outcasts  of  humanity,  brought 
up  by  these  strange  convulsions  from  unmentiona- 
ble depths  to  the  surface  and  apex  of  society.  The 
leaders  were  chosen  for  their  physical  strength,  their 
suj)eriority  in  courage  or  ferocity.  The  '*  short 
method"  they  adopted  was  massacre.  At  first  it 
was  practised  with  some  form  and  regularity :  every 
one  suspected  as  a  traitor  or  a  foe  was  apprehended 
and  put  to  death.-''  But  soon  a  thirst  for  blood  was 
awakened  that  suffered  no  dela}-  and  no  selection 
of  the  victims.  While  the  frenzy  raged  the  whole 
town  presented  the  aspect  of  a  slaughter-house : 
neither  age  nor  youth  was  spared;  neither  church 
nor  convent  afforded  shelter ;  and  the  bodies  of 
men,  women,  and  children  were  seen  scattered  at 
short  intervals  through  all  the  j)rincipal  streets.^ 


*'  Basin,  torn.  i.  lib.  1,  cap.  12.  overpowered,  witnessed  a  succession 

'"  The  summer  of  141S,  wl;en  the  of  these  terrible  cm c?( to.  "  Si  n'eus- 

Armafjnafs,  who  for  u  while  had  held  siez  trouve  ii  Paris  rue  de  nom,  ou 

possession  of  the  city,  were  again  n'eust  aucune  occision. .  . .  Estoient 


CHAP.  I.] 


FAJ^HNE  IX  PARIS. 


27 


But  there  was  a  panic  in  the  hapless  city  greater 
even  than  that  excited  by  the  fury  of  the  mob  or 
the  tyranny  of  faction.  The  armies  that  hovered 
incef>santly  around  the  walls  had  devastated  the 
country  within  a  circuH  of  twenty  leagues.  From 
month  to  month,  from  year  to  year,  the  price  of 
bread  continued  to  rise,  until  the  scarcity  was  such 
that  the  bakers'  shops  were  daily  besieged  by  crowds 
who  struggled  for  admittance,  and  only  those  were 
supplied  who  had  waited  at  the  doors  from  dawn.™' 
Troops  of  destitute  wretches  wandered  about  the 
streets  in  search  of  offal  which  the  swine  had  re- 
fused, or  ran  to  the  fields  without  the  walls  to  devour 
the  carcasses  of  slaughtered  do}2;s.'^°  Winter  —  more 
rigorous  in  the  same  latitude  than  now''' — had  no 
pity  on  this  homeless,  starving  multitude.  Every 
where,  every  hour,  a  terrible  cry  was  heard,  "  I  am 
dying  of  hunger;  I  am  dying  of  cold !"^^ 


en  tna  comme  pores  an  milieu  de  la 
boe. .  .  .  Dimenche  29  May,  h.  Ptiris, 
mors  a  respeu  ou  d'autres  armes  en 
mj-  les  rues,  sans  aucuns  qui  furent 
tuez  OS  naaisons  cinq  cens  vinjft  ot 
deux  hoinnies."  Journal  de  Paris, 
sub  anno. 

'"'  Idem,  anno  1420.  —  He  pives, 
at  intervals,  the  prices  of  the  differ- 
ent articles  of  food,  thus  exliibitinjj^ 
the  continual  and  enormous  increase. 
Tliere  is  often  a  peculiar  i)athos  ia 
these  simple  statistics  :  "  Item,  les 
petits  cntfens  ne  mangerent  point  de 
lait ;  car  ])inte  coustoit  dix  deuiers 
ou  douze."  Anno  1419. 
I     '"'  Idem,  annis  1420,  1421. 


'"  Many  facts  scattered  through 
the  chronicles  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury attest  this  sttitement.  The  win- 
ters of  1407-1408  and  1420-1421 
were  peculiarly  severe. 

3s  "  O'lyssez  parmy  Paris  piteux 
plains,  piteux  crys,  piteuses  lamen- 
tations, et  pctiz  enfans  crier :  '  Je 
meurs  de  faim  ; '  et  sur  les  uimiers 
.  .  .  pussiez  trouver  cy  nix,  cy  vingt 
ou  trente  enfans,  fils  et  fiUes,  qui  la 
mouroient  de  faim  et  de  froit ;  et 
n'estoit  si  dur  cueur  qui  par  nuyt 
les  ouist  crier  :  '  Helas !  je  meurs  de 
faim,'  qui  grant  pitie  n'en  oust.  Mais 
les  pouvres  mesnaigiers  ne  leur  pou- 
vaient  aider  ;  car  on  n'avoit  ne  pain, 


28 


THE  -AGONY"  OF  FRANCE. 


[book  I. 


,,:  f 


War  and  famine  speedily  generated  j)estilence. 
"  "With  this  triple  scourge  of  divine  justice,"  says  a 
contemporary,  too  young,  indeed,  at  the  time  to 
know  the  full  extent  and  import  of  these  calamities, 
but  writing:  Avhile  the  evidence  and  the  effects  were 
still  fresh  before  his  eyes,  "  was  the  country  afflicted, 
not  for  a  short  period,  but  during  many  successive 
years." '^^  In  1418  fifty  thousand  persons  Avere  said 
to  have  died  in  Paris  in  less  than  five  weeks.''*  The 
bodies  were  flung  by  hundreds  into  huge  pits  dug 
for  their  reception.  Packs  of  famished  wolves  came 
at  night  and  feasted  in  the  cemeteries,  and  some- 
times ventured,  in  the  broad  daylight,  to  seek  their 
prey  among  the  living.*'  "  Such  scenes  of  misery," 
says  the  diarist  so  frequently  quoted,  "  the  prophet 
Jeremiah  saw  not  when  Jerusalem  was  destroyed." 
"Alas!"  he  exclaims,  "never  since  the  time  of  Clovis, 
the  first  Christian  king,  was  France  "Bo  divided,  so 
desolate."'"' 

It  seemed,  indeed,  as  if  this  were  the  final  agony 
of  the  nation,  as  if  the  hour  of  its  dissolution  were  at 


ne  ble,  ne  buche,  ne  charbon.  .  .  , 
Jour  et  nuyt  crioient  'lOmmca, 
femmes,  petiz  enfians  :  '  I  Idas  !  je 
mcurs  dc  fioit,'  Tautre  de  faim." 
Jounuil  de  Paris,  anno  1420. 

'^  Basin,  torn.  i.  p.  117. 

^*  Journal  de  Paris,  sub  anno.  To 
this  statement,  sufficiently  hard  of 
credence,  —  the  probable  nmnber  of 
the  population  not  cxceedinfj;  UOO,- 
000,  —  is  appended  another,  wliich 
baffles  even  tlie  iniiij^ination :  "Ceulx 
qui  faisoient  les  fosses  et  cj-metieres 


de  Paris,  affermoicnt  qu'entre  la  Na- 
tivite  de  Nostre-Dame  et  sa  Concep- 
tion, avoient  enterre  de  la  Ville  de 
I'aris  plus  de  cent  mille  personnes, 
et  en  quatre  ou  cinq  cens  n'en  mou- 
roit  pas  douze  anciens,  que  tous  en- 
ffens  et  jeunes  gens." 

^*  Idem,  anno  1421. 

^^  "  Helas,  je  ne  cuide  mie  que 
dcpuis  Ic  Roi  Clovis  qui  fut  le  pre- 
mier Roy  Chrestien,  que  France  fust 
aussi  desoliie  et  divisee."  Idem,  anno 
1419.  ♦ 


CHAP.  I.]       INDESTRUCTIBLE  VrrALITY  OF  FRANCE. 


29 


hand.  Lingering  over  the  record  of  these  horrors, 
we  forget  for  a  moment  that  they  were  not  only 
suffered  but  survived;  we  lose  the  vision  of  the 
country's  after-greatness,  and  stand  as  it  were  mute 
and  awe-struck  in  the  presence  of  Death. 

But  the  vitality  of  France  is  indestructible.  The 
French  nation  is  the  only  one  which  has  maintained 
an  uninterrupted  existence  from  the  fall  of  the  Ro- 
man power  down  to  the  present  day;  and  this  long 
career  has  been  marked  throughout  by  the  strangest 
vicissitudes  —  alternations  of  glory  and  disaster,  of 
misrule  and  revolution.  France  has  more  than  once 
been .  overrun  and  conquered,  and  its  territory  dis- 
membered ;  it  has  been  a  prey  to  every  variety  of 
civil  war — wars  of  factions,  of  classes,  and  of  creeds ; 
its  administrative  system  has  been  disorganized 
under  weak  governments,  its  liberties  have  been 
trodden  down  by  despotic  governments ;  it  has  lan- 
guished for  long  periods  under  institutions  oppres- 
sive and  corrupt;  it  has  cut  itself  loose  at  a  single 
stroke  from  its  ancient  traditions ;  it  has  maintained 
an  attitude  of  hostility  against  the  world,  and,  after 
unexampled  and  intoxicating  trimnphs,  has  tasted 
the  bitter  dregs  of  humiliation  and  defeat;  —  yet 
all  these  changes,  convulsions,  and  reverses  have 
not  impaired  the  foundations  of  the  state  or  weak- 
ened the  energies  of  the  people ;  the  oldest,  of  the 
powers  of  Christendom,  France  is  still  the  first, 
exerting  a  greater  influence  than  any  other,  excit- 
ing greater  hopes  and  greater  fears. 

With  a  people  so  deficient  in  calmness  and  solidity, 


rp«-.f,- 


80 


IXDESTRrCTIBLE  \1TALITY  OF  FRANCE.        [hook  i. 


but  SO  full  of  ardor  and  intelligence ;  so  exalted 
in  victory,  but  so  elastic  in  defeat ;  so  impatient  of 
restraint,  yet  so  capable  of  discipline  and  of  concert ; 
— with  a  country  so  nobly  situated  and  possessed  of 
so  great  resources ;  open  to  invasion,  yet  marked  out 
by  '..ature  for  the  home  of  a  great  people  and  the 
seat  of  an  empire;^'' — it  was  not  possible  that  France 
should  present  that  spectacle  of  gradual  and  steady 
development  which  England  has  presented  ;  but 
neither  was  it  possible  that,  like  Italy  or  Spain,  it 
should  sink  into  hopeless  imbecility  and  lingering 
decay.  Its  convulsive  struggles  are  the  throes  not 
of  death,  but  of  regeneration.  When  torpor  seems 
already  to  have  crept  to  the  vital  parts,  it  rouses 
from  its  lethargy.  At  the  moment  of  its  greatest 
weakness,  it  is  suddenly  endvied  with  fresh  strength, 
and  rising  like  a  Titan  from  the  earth,  it  starts  for- 
ward on  a  new  career. 

In  the  great  crisis  of  the  fifteenth  century,  a 
period  barren  of  noble  characters  and  nobie  deeds, 
fruitful  only  of  misery  and  crime,  was  followed  by 
one  of  those  epochs  in  which  poetry  claims  an  equal 
share  with  history.    The  story  of  the  Maid  of  Orleans 


^^  In  the  speeches  and  writings  of 
Burke  there  is  more  than  one  splen- 
did passage  descriptive  of  the  great- 
ness of  France  and  the  immensity 
of  Iier  internal  resources ;  and  in 
conversation  he  is  reported  —  but 
probably  with  Uttle  correctness  —  as 
having  drawn  a  comparison  between 
France  and  England  as  the  sun  and 
the  moon  of  tlie  general  political  sys- 


tem, the  one  having  all  she  needs 
within  herself,  the  other  drawing  all 
from  abroad,  (llogcrs's  Table  Talk, 
Amer.  ed.  p.  100.)  Hut  the  British 
empire  is  far  more  than  a  mere 
European  power.  Its  history,  its 
resources,  and  its  influence  are  not 
those  of  a  si:^lo  country,  a  single 
nation,  or  a  single  quarter  of  the 
globe. 


CHAP.  I.] 


REGENERATION  OF  FRANCE. 


31 


seems,  indeed,  to  lead  us  upon  ground  glorified  by 
the  brilliant  atmosphere  of  romance.  We  see  the 
fervid  sentiments  that  in  an  earlier  age  had  given 
birth  to  chivalry  rekindled  by  the  simple  faith  and 
ardent  imagination  of  a  peasant  girl.  If  from  such 
a  quarter  hope  dawned  once  more  upon  a  despair- 
ing people,  it  was  because  the  same  spirit  that 
wrought  so  powerfully  in  her  had  silently  breathed 
itself  into  them  —  because  their  minds  had  been 
prepared  by  long  affliction  and  utter  hopelessness 
of  human  succor  to  listen  to  a  voice  that  promised 
aid  from  Heaven. 

Joan  of  Arc  represents  the  religious  and  heroic 
elements  of  the  reaction.  But  other  elements  en- 
tered largely  into  the  movement,  and  contributed  to 
its  final  success.  Some  sources  of  disunion  in  the 
kingdom  were  already  dried  up.  The  hostile  factions 
began  to  approach  each  other  with  overtures  of 
peace  when  they  found  that  their  animosity  had 
only  given  to  the  one  a  more  powerful  enemy,  to 
the  other  a  master.  The  English  conquest  had  lost 
its  main  pillar  by  the  death  of  Henry  the  Fifth ;  and 
England  herself  was  beginning  to  be  visited  by  that 
train  of  evils  with  which  her  rival  had  been  so  long 
afflicted  —  a  feeble-minded  prince,  a  long  minority, 
divided  counsels,  and  civil  war.  In  the  same  vear 
in  which  that  dauntless  mind,  full  of  lofty  ideas,  of 
energy,  and  of  fortitude,  was  laid  at  rest,  the 
insane  king,  Charles  the  Sixth,  ended  his  un- 
happy life.  The  dauphin,  now  Charles  the  Seventh, 
was  placed  by  this  event  in  a  stronger  position  for 


32 


REGENERATION  OF  FRANCE. 


[book  I. 


u 


I 


1 

n 

1 

P    ^ 

1  ^' 

1 

li! 

claiming  the  popular  support  than  ho  had  occupied 
when  denounced  as  a  rebel  agiiinst  hi.s  father's 
authority,  and  while  destitute  of  those  nominal  rights 
wliich  exert  such  an  intiuence  over  the  mass  of  man- 
kind. Nor  did  he  entirely  lack  the  qualities  befitting 
one  who  had  to  conquer  his  inheritance  and  raise 
anew  the  fallen  structure  of  the  monarchy.  He  had, 
indeed,  great  defects — a  character  suggesting  a  com- 
parison in  some  points  with  that  of  a  monarch  whose 
fortunes  have  an  ostensible  similarity  with  his  — 
Charles  the  Second  of  England.  Like  the  latter,  he 
was  fond  of  pleasure,  averse  to  business,  ungrateful 
in  a  degree  that  exceeded  the  proverbial  ingratitude 
of  princes.  He  had  also  the  same  imperturbable 
temper,  the  same  'coolness  of  judgment,  but  greater 
talents,  and  a  mind  capable  when  aroused  of  active 
exertion,  and  of  firmness  mingled  with  moderation. 
From  the  mass  of  adherents,  of  diverse  opinions  and 
discordant  characters,  that  surrounded  him,  he  suc- 
ceeded at  length  in  sifting  out  a  body  of  advisers, 
some  of  them  men  of  humble  origin,  few  of  them 
connected  with  the  great  nobility,  but  admirably 
suited  by  their  personal  qualities  to  concoct  and 
carry  out  measures  that  were  the  best  calculated  to 
restore  liberty  and  prosperity  to  the  kingdom.  For 
Charles  "the  Well-served"  the  prouder  appellation 
was  in  store  of  Charles  "the  Victorious." 

Thus  reanimated  and  directed,  France  put  forth 
all  her  energies  in  the  struggle  in  which  her  inde- 
pendence, her  very  existence,  was  at  stake.  Step 
by  step  the  English  receded  from  the  line  of  con- 


I 


<i 


CHAP.  I.]  POSITION  OF  JOHN  THE  FEARLESS. 


ss 


quest;  province  after  province  expelled  them  from 
its  bounds ;  until  not  only  their  recent  acquisi- 
tions, but  their  earliest  possessions  —  the  territory 
won  by  the  valor,  and  still  known  by  the  name,  of 
those  northern  warriors  and  sea-kings  by  whom 
Saxon  England  had  since  been  subjugated  and  gov- 
ern(.'d ;  the  dowry  brought  by  Eleanor  of  Guienne  to 
the  wisest  of  the  Plantagenets,  a  heritage  retained 
by  his  descendants  for  more  than  three  centuries  — 
were  torn  from  their  grasp  and  lost  to  them  forever. 
In  Calais  alone  the  standard  of  Saint  Geoig*^  still 
floated  over  French  soil. 


.§•, 


Before  glancing  at  the  pacification  of  the  country, 
and  its  gradual  return  to  a  state  of  order  and  secu- 
rity under  Charles  the  Seventh,  it  is  necessary  that 
we  should  again  take  up  a  thread  which  connects  in 
a  more  particular  manner  the  earlier  portions  of  this 
chapter  with  the  main  body  of  our  narrative. 

John  the  Fearless,  duke  of  Burgundy,  appears  on 
the  stage  of  history  as  a  principal  figure  in  the  open- 
ing act  of  a  great  and  terrible  drama.  But  he  cannot 
bo  said  to  have  played  an  important  part  in  the 
tumultuous  and  impassioned  scenes  that  followed. 
He  was  the  most  powerful  member  of  the  nobility 
and  thvi  leader  of  a  faction;  but  he  had  almost  as 
little  to  do  with  shaping  the  course  of  events  as  the 
meanest  of  his  adherents.  He  was  alike  powerless 
to  remedy  the  disorders  of  the  government,  to  crush 
the  various  forces  that  rose  in  resistance  to  his  usur- 
pation, and  to  maintain  a  commanding  influence 


VOL.  I. 


^ 


11  i 


34 


ms  DESIRE  FOR  PEACE. 


f^ 


I     ;i: 


i      I 


[book  I. 


over  the  action  of  liis  own  party.  After  struggling 
for  more  than  five  years  amidst  the  impetuous  con- 
flict of  opposing  currents,  he  was  compelled,  in  1414, 
to  resign  the  hehn  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies  and 
retire  to  his  own  dominions. 

But  the  party  of  the  Armagnacs  was  equally  in- 
competent to  carry  on  the  government.  It  could 
neither  maintain  war  nor  reestablish  peace.  It  was 
prostrated  at  Azincourt,  and  it  was  repudiated  by  the 
people.  The  duke  of  Burgundy  renewed  the  con- 
test ;  in  1418  he  again  made  himself  master  of  the 
capital.  Then  followed  various  abortive  efforts  to 
bring  about  a  roconclliation  between  the  two  parties, 
and  to  unite  them  in  effective  resistance  to  the  com- 
mon enemy.  Several  treaties  with  this  object  were 
successively  framed,  sworn  to,  and  disregarded.  They 
failed  because  on  the  one  side  there  were  suspicions, 
well-grounded  fears,  never  absent  from  the  oreast  of 
him  who  in  earlier  days  had  won  for  himself  the  title 
of  "the  Fearless;"^  because  on  the  other  side  there 
was  a  fierce  hate,  a  thirst  for  vengeance  only  to  be 
satisfied  by  blood. 

Doubtless  the  duke  of  Burgundy  longed  for  a 
reconciliation.  He  knew  well  that  his  present  posi- 
tion was  untenable,  that  it  was  but  the  elevation  of 
a  wave  which,  when  its  force  was  spent,  would  fall 
away  beneath  him.    The  English  monarch  was  ad- 

"  According  to  some  accounts,  copolis,  when  the  flower  of  the  Chris- 

this    HPTie  had    been    given  him,  tian  chivah^  perished  in  the  field, 

while  count  of  Nevers,  for  his  cool  and  tlie  greater  number  of  the  pris- 

intrepidity  in  presence  of  the  Sultan  oners  were  ruthlessly  massacred. 
Bajazet,  after  the  fatal  battle  of  Ni- 


m 

■  W 


CHAP.  I.] 


mS  DESIRE  FOR  PEACE. 


35 


vancing  upon  Paris,  and  his  march  was  not  to  he 
delayed  by  negotiations.  The  dauphin  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  Armagnacs ;  and  though  only  a  boy,  his 
presence  seemed  to  give  them  as  plausible  a  claim 
to  exercise  the  functions  of  the  government  as  the 
duke  of  Burgundy  had  derived  from  his  seizure  of 
the  king's  person.  It  was  necessary  that  he  should 
either  make  peace  with  his  enemies  or  unite  liimself 
with  the  enemies  of  his  country ;  and,  although  he 
had  not  hesitated  at  the  commencement  of  the 
troubles  to  appeal  to  these  latter  for  assistance,  he 
was  not  prepared  by  direct  and  absolute  treason  to 
give  up  France  into  their  possession. 

There  may  have  been  a  still  deeper  feeling  i  i  his 
mind  which  led  him  to  desire  peace  with  the  oppo- 
site faction.  Such  a  peace  was  perhaps  neca  yary  to 
his  internal  quiet.  He  may  have  thought  that  a 
complete  and  sincere  reconciliation  would  blot  out 
the  foul  transaction  which  had  raised  against  him 
and  within  him  a  cry  of  horror  and  reproach ;  he 
may  have  hoped  by  an  earnest  cooperation  with  the 
Orleanists  in  defence  of  the  country  to  undo  the 
mischief  of  which  to  so  large  an  extent  he  was  the 
author.  No  chronicler  will  enable  us  to  penetrate 
the  depths  in  which,  if  any  where,  this  feeling  had 
its  abode.  Yet,  judging  from  his  language  as  well  as 
from  his  conduct,  we  may  well  believe  that  it  existed. 

In  very  despair  of  knowing  whom  to  trust,  he 
confided  in  traitors  —  in  the  agents  and  emissaries 
employed  to  lure  him  to  destruction.  He  con- 
sented to  have  an  interview  Avith  the  dauphin,  at 


*  :t 


I    I 


!       if 


36 


TIIE  BRIDGE  OF  MONTEREAU. 


[book  I. 


which  all  the  impediments  that  had  prevented  the 
observance  of  the  treaties  already  made  should  be 
removed.  Such  of  his  advisers  as  were  faithful  to 
him  endeavored  to  dissuade  him  from  so  perilous  a 
step;  but,  after  a  season  of  deliberation,  he  deter- 
mined on  fulfilling  his  engagement.  "It  is  my  duty," 
he  said,  "  to  risk  my  person  for  the  chance  of  secur- 
ing so  great  a  blessing  as  peace.  I  desire  peace  at 
any  sacrifice."  And  he  added,  "  When  peace  is  made, 
I  will  take  the  dauphin's  people  and  lead  them 
against  the  English.  There  are  amongst  them  brave 
men  and  able  captains.  Then  we  shall  see  who  is 
to  prevail,  Hannotin  of  Flanders  (the  nickname  given 
him  by  his  subjects  in  the  Netherlands)  or  Henry  of 
Lancaster."  , 

On  his  way  to  the  appointed  place,  the  bridge  of 
Montereau,  other  warnings  reached'him ;  but  he  put 
them  aside,  as  if  Aveary  of  a  long  inward  struggle, 
and  resolved  to  yield  to  the  decision  of  fate.  Accom- 
panied by  his  suite,  consisting  of  ten  persons  armed 
only  with  the  swords  ordinarily  worn  on  occasions 
of  ceremony,  he  presented  himself  before  a  strong 
wooden  barrier  which  had  been  erected  on  the 
bridge,  and,  having  taken  the  customary  oath,  was 
admitted  through  a  narrow  gate.  Those  who  held  the 
passage,  as  if  apprehensive  that  the  crowd  collected 
without  might  attempt  to  force  an  entrance,  called 
sharply  on  the  duke's  attendants  to  hasten  their 
steps ;  and  his  secretary,  who  came  last,  was  taken 
hold  of  by  the  arm  and  pulled  within  the  enclosure. 
The  gate  was  then  shut  and  securely  fastened. 


■:-S(' 


CHAP.  1.] 


THE  BRIDGE  OF  MONTEREAU. 


37 


Tlie  ckiiphin,  with  an  equal  number  of  followers, 
had  passed  through  a  barrier  at  the  opposite  end  of 
the  bridge,  where  he  still  remained,  awaiting  the 
duke's  approach.  The  latter,  after  rapidly  traversing 
the  intermediate  space,  uncovered  and  knelt  before 
his  sovereign's  son,  and  in  emphatic  language  pro- 
claimed his  loyalty  to  the  crown,  his  desire  of  devot- 
ing himself  to  the  extirpadon  of  the  evils  with  which 
the  country  was  oppressed,  and  his  readiness  to 
enter  into  such  engagements  as  might  be  considered 
necessary  for  that  object.''"  A  courteous  answer  was 
returned ;  he  was  requested  to  rise  ;  and  the  two 
princes,  retiring  a  little  apart,  engaged  in  amicable 
conversation. 

Meanwhile  the  barrier  had  been  again  unfastened 
by  its  treacherous  keepers.  A  small  body  of  men, 
in  full  armor,  quitted  a  place  of  concealment  near 
the  fiver,  and  approached  the  gate.  Tanneguy 
Duchatel,  the  principal  contriver  of  the  plot,  came 
behind  the  duke,  pushed  him  between  the  shoulders 
with  a  hatchet  or  small  battle-axe,  which  he  had 
carried  without  attracting  observation,  and  in  a  loud 


"  "  Mondit  Seigneur  s'en  alri 
(levers  lui,  et  osta  son  aumusse  qvi 
cstoit  de  veloux  noir,  ct  se  incb'na 
devant  luy  d'un  gcnoul  jusques  i\ 
terrc,  en  le  saluant  moult  humble- 
mcnt,  en  lui  disant  en  effct  les  pa- 
roles qui  s'ensuivent :  c'est  assavoir 
qu'apves  Dieu,  il  n'avoit  qu'Jl  servir 
et  obeir  q'au  Roy  et  h.  luy.  et  en  leur 
service,  a  la  con8er^•ation  du  Roy- 
aulme,  ofFrit  h  mcttre  et  employer 
corps,  bien,  amis,  alliez  et  bienveil- 
lans  ...  en  disant  pour  [lors  ?]  feu 


mondit  Seigneur  au  dit  Daulphin  et 
Ji  ses  gens,  '  Monsieur  et  entre  vous 
Messieurs,  dy-je  bien  ?  '  Et  ccs  pa- 
roles dittes  luy  dist,  •  Biau-Cousin, 
vous  dittes  si  bien  que  Ton  ne  pour- 
roit  mieulx,  levez-vous  et  vous  cou- 
vrez,'  en  le  tenant  par  la  main." 
Deposition  de  Maistre  Jean  Segui- 
nat,  secretaire  de  Jean,  Due  de  Bour- 
gogne,Mdmoires  pour  8er^•^r  Ji  I'Hist. 
de  Fi-ance  et  de  Bourgogne,  (4to. 
Paris,  1729,)  p.  273. 


38 


TIIE  BRIDGE  OF  MONTEREAU. 


[book  I. 


voice  denounced  him  as  a  traitor.  This  served  as  a 
signal  to  the  assassins,  who,  with  furious  cries  of 
"Kill!  kill!"  now  rushed  towards  the  spot.  The 
assault  was  too  sudden  to  allow  of  either  resistance 
or  escape.  Swords  and  axes  flashed  above  the  duke's 
head.  The  first  stroke  laid  bare  his  skull  and  cheek- 
bone, and  nearly  severed  the  arm  which  he  had 
raised  instinctively  to  guard  his  face.  Other  blows 
were  given  before  he  fell.  His  attendants  were 
made  prisoners,  with  the  exception  of  one,  who  suc- 
ceeded in  climljing  the  barrier.  Another,  the  Sire 
de  Noailles,  had  received  a  mortal  wound  while 
attempting  to  defend  his  master.  When  the  tumult 
had  subsided,  a  man  knelt  down  beside  the  duke, 
and,  perceiving  that  he  still  gave  signs  of  life,  thrust 
a  sword  far  into  his  body.  A  last  gasp  was  heard, 
and  John  the  Fearless  expired.  The  vengeance 
that  had  waited  twelve  years  for  its  opportunity 
was  satisfied.*^ 

Philip,  count  of  Charolais,  the  son  and  successor 
of  the  murdered  prince,  was  at  Ghent  when  the 
tidings  readied  him  of  this  horrible  tragedy.  "  Mi- 
chelle," he  said  to  his  wife,  a  daughter  of  Charles 
the  Sixth,  "  your  brother  has  assassinated  my  father." 
He  summoned  his  friends  and  the  Elstates  of  his 
provinces,  and  took  counsel  as  to  the  course  which 
he  should  pursue.  It  was  now  his  turn  to  seek 
revenge,  and  the  means  of  obtaining  it  were  obvious 
and  easy.    A  treaty  of  alliance  between  the  new 

*"  Meurtre  de  Jean,  dit  sans  peur,  Mem.  pour  sen'ir  h.  I'EUst.  de  France 
et  de  Bourgogne,  pp.  209-354. 


CHAP.  I.] 


JOIIN  TIIE  FEARLESS  AVENGED. 


30 


duke  of  Burgundy  and  Henry  the  Fiflli  opened  to 
the  latter  the  gates  of  Paris,  and  placed  him  in  vir- 
tual possession  of  the  French  crown.  Thus  France 
was  again  condemned  to  pay  the  heavy  penalty  in- 
curred by  its  treacherous  and  blood-stained  princes. 
As  long  as  Henry  lived  Philip  took  an  active  part 
in  the  prosecution  of  the  war  against  the  dauphin ; 
and  the  conqueror's  dying  charge  to  the  guardians 
of  his  son  was  to  preserve  at  every  cost  the  friend- 
ship of  the  duke  of  Burgundy.  But  the  counsel  of 
the  dead  had  little  hold  upon  a  man  who,  like  the 
duke  of  Gloucester,  the  regent  of  England,  would 
have  sacrificed  a  kingdom  to  the  gratification  of  a 
whim.  Yet  though  Philip,  disgusted  at  the  slights 
he  received,  gradually  cooled  towards  his  allies,  and 
ceased  to  afford  them  an  earnest  cooperation  in  the 
conduct  of  the  war,  it  was  long  before  he  could  be 
induced  by  the  persuasions  of  such  of  his  counsellors 
as  were  friendly  to  the  French  cause  to  listen  to  the 
proposals  made  to  him  for  transferring  his  allegiance 
to  his  rightful  sovereign.  He  could  not,  however,  be 
uninfluenced  by  the  altered  fortunes  of  the  comba- 
tants, by  the  tide  that  was  bearing  Charles  the 
Seventh  to  his  ancestral  throne,  and  breaking  up  the 
foundations  of  that  foreign  rule  which  Philip  himself 
had  so  powerfully  aided  in  establishing.  Nor  was 
he  unmoved  by  the  spectacle  of  a  nation  emerging 
from  discord,  recovering  from  unheard-of  calamities, 
and  appealing  to  him  to  remove  the  obstacles  that 
still  existed  to  the  restoration  of  union  and  internal 
peace.     His  disposition,  too,  although  he  had  the 


r 


40 


TREATY  OF  ARRAS. 


[book  I. 


'^    y. 


1 

i 
'i, 

lii 

i 

\ 

i 

i ' 

! 

1 

ii ' 

H    I 


fiery  temper  and  tenacious  purpose  of  his  race,  was 
not  warlike.  His  states  were  weary  of  a  fruitless 
contest,  which,  though  carried  on  with  little  vigor, 
interfeicd  with  tlieir  commerce  and  exposed  their 
frontiers  to  continual  annoyance.  The  Church  was 
ready  to  relieve  him  of  his  scruples  as  to  a  treaty 
which  conflicted  with  the  terms  of  his  alliance  with 
the  English.  Charles  the  Seventh  offered  all  pos- 
sible atonement  for  a  crime  in  which  he  declared 
himself  to  have  had  no  sl^are,  and  which  might  well 
have  been  washed  out  by  the  blood  so  profusely 
shed  during  an  interval  of  sixteen  years.  In  fine, 
Philip's  vanity  was  flattered,  in  the  crisis  that  awaited 
his  decision,  by  the  general  acknowledgment  of  his 
power  implied  by  the  hopes  of  the  one  side  and 
the  fears  of  the  other ;  and  he  could  not  fail  to 
perceive  that,  while  by  yielding  to  the  entreaties 
of  his  own  subjects,  of  the  Frendi  people,  and  of 
the  head  of  the  Church,  he  appeared  in  the  light 
of  a  great  and  magnanimous  prince  sacrificing  his 
private  feelings  to  the  public  good,  on  the  other 
hand,  if  he  rejected  this  appeal,  he  might  hereafter 
lose  his  present  position  as  the  umpire  of  the  war, 
and  be  made  to  feel  its  calamitous  effects. 

The  peace  thus  ardently  longed  for  was  secured 
by  the  treaty  of  Arriis,  in  1435.  This  instrument 
exhibits  in  a  strong  light  the  unequal  terms  on 
which  a  feudal  sovereign  was  sometimes  compelled 
to  treat  with  his  powerful  vassals.  It  consists  of  a 
series  of  concessions  and  engagements  on  the  part 
of  Charles,  which  the  duke   of  Burgundy  is  gra- 


!,      .!■"' 


CHAP.  I.] 


TRUCE  WITH  THE  ENGLISH. 


il 


ciously  pleased  to  accept  —  moved  thereto,  as  he 
states,  by  compassion  for  the  suffering  people  of  the 
realm,  and  by  the  request  and  summons  of  the  holy 
father  and  the  ecumenical  council  assembled  at  Ba- 
sel. By  one  provision  of  the  treaty,  —  the  only 
one  that  requires  notice  as  bearing  on  events  to 
be  hereafter  related,  —  the  king  ceded  to  Philip  the 
towns  and  seigneuries  lying  on  both  banks  of  the 
Somme,  embracing  the  greater  part  of  Picardy,  sub- 
ject to  the  usual  restrictions  of  a  feudal  grant,  and 
to  a  stipulation  —  inserted  probably  to  save  the 
honor  of  the  crown  —  that  these  places  might  here- 
after be  redeemed  by  the  payment  of  four  hundred 
thousand  gold  crowns.*^ 

Several  years  elapsed  after  the  duke  of  Burgundy 
had  withdrawn  from  their  support  before  the  English 
could  be  induced  to  consent  to  a  suspension  of 
hostilities;  and,  although  the  truce  made  in  1444 
was  renewed  from  time  to  time,  it  was  not  until 
their  means  were  crippled  and  their  energies  ex- 
hausted by  the  civil  wars  of  Lancaster  and  York 
that  they  finally  desisted  from  their  efforts  to  re- 
establish their  dominion  in  France. 

It  remains  only  to  say  a  few  words  respecting 
the  condition  of  that  country  when  the  clouds  which 


*'  The  treaty  —  since  known  as 
the  "  first  treaty  of  Arras,"  to  dis- 
tinguish it  from  that  by  which,  in 
1483,  the  to^vn8  of  the  Somme  were 
finally  restored  to  France  —  is  given 
at  length  by  Lamarche,  (ed.  Petitot,) 


torn.  i.  p.  254,  et  seq.,  and  may  also 
be  found,with  the  confii-mation  by  the 
Council  of  Basel  and  other  documents 
relating  to  the  subject,  in  Dumout, 
Corps  Diplomatique,  lom.  ii.  pp.  309, 
et  seq. 


VOL.  I. 


6 


w 


i-i 


'     I 


42 


THE  ECORCHEURS. 


[book  I. 


had  settled  over  it  began  at  length  to  clear  away. 
Far  from  subsiding,  the  waters  seemed  to  rise  higher 
as  the  violence  of  the  storm  abated.  The  foreign 
enemy  had  been  vanquished ;  the  two  great  parties 
had  laid  aside  their  animosity;  but  in  order  that 
tranquillity  might  be  restored,  that  industry  might 
again  flourish,  it  was  necessary  that  the  very  anny 
which  had  achieved  these  successes  should  be  con- 
quered and  subdued.  As  it  turned  from  the  pursuit 
of  the  retreating  foe,  it  broke  up  into  bands,  that 
spread  themselves  over  the  impoverished  country, 
gleaning  the  scattered  spoils  which  remained  from 
the  harvest  of  their  onward  march.  Passing  from 
province  to  province,  they  established  their  head- 
quarters in  the  castles  and  small  fortresses,  sallying 
forth  in  quest  of  booty,  extorting  ransom  from  their 
prisoners,  and  exciting  by  their  marvellous  rapacity 

—  their  keenness  of  scent,  dexterity  of  finger,  and 
ingenious  methods  of  appropriation  and  compulsion 

—  the  admiration  of  their  victims,  who,  with  wit 
inspired  by  terror,  bestowed  upon  them  the  names 
of  the  tcorcheiirs  (fleecers)  and  Retondeurs  (shear- 
ers)—  names  long  preserved  in  the  popular  recol- 
lection. Even  the  walled  towns  and  cities  were 
menaced  with  attack ;  nnd  the  inhabitants  were 
generally  glad  to  compound  for  the  hazards  of  an 
assault  by  the  payment  of  a  heavy  fine. 

But,  happily,  though  anarchy  still  prevailed  in  the 
country,  it  no  longer  existed  in  the  government. 
The  machine  was  once  more  in  motion ;  and  a 
clear-sighted  and  vigorous  policy,  which  marked  the 


CUAF.  I.] 


FIRST  STANDING  ARMY. 


m 


rise  of  a  new  order  of  statesmen,  directed  its  oper- 
ation. Schemes  of  reform  were  not  merely  devised, 
but  carried  into  execution ;  laws  were  not  merely 
promulgated,  but  enforced.  The  natural  channels 
of  revenue  were  reopened,  and  the  expenses  of  the 
state  placed  upon  an  equitable  basis.  By  an  ordi- 
nance celebrated  as  the  first  of  the  kind  in  modem 
history,  the  feudal  levies  that  had  taken  part  in  the 
war  were  converted  into  a  standing  army,  with  reg- 
ular pay,  and  under  officers  appointed  by  the  king. 
To  defray  the  expense  of  this  establishment,  a  direct 
and  pei'petual  tax,  of  fixed  annual  amount,  was 
imposed  by  the  sole  authority  of  the  crown;  and 
the  innovation,  though  it  excited  the  clamors  of  a 
few,  was  submitted  to  without  demur  by  the  body 
of  the  nation,  who  recognized  its  necessity.*^  By 
another  ordinance  the  towns  were  required  to  raise, 
equip,  and  furnish  when  needed  for  the  royal  ser- 
vice, a  body  of  archers  proportioned  to  the  number 
of  tlie  inhabitants.  Such  of  the  brigand-soldiery  as 
refused  to  submit  to  the  new  organization  were 
treated  as  public  enemies.  These  measures  did  not 
indeed  go  into  effect  without  encountering  resist- 
ance from  the  great  nobles.  The  establishment  of 
a  permanent  military  force  was  iriveighed  against 
as  an  arbitrary  innovation  and  a  stepping-stone  to 
tyranny.*'     Feudalism,  alarmed  at  the  approaching 


*'  "  Le  Roy  C!harles  . . .  ftit  ad-  faix  et  charge)  que  ce  qu'ils  fiissent 

vise  .  .  .   que   le  peuple  aymeroi't  journellement  mangds  et  piiles."  La- 

mieux  payer  icelle  taille  par  an  (qui  marche,  torn.  i.  p.  406. 
toutesfois  estoit  grande  et  de  pesant        "  That  Basin,  after  showing  the 


44 


THE  "KING'S  JUSTICE." 


[book  I. 


I 


M 

(      ' 

i 

strides  of  this  new  power,  whose  hostile  intentions 
could  not  be  mistaken,  put  itself  in  an  attitude  of 
defence.  But  the  time  had  not  yet  come  for  the 
final  trial  of  strength  between  the  two  systems. 
The  nobility  had  been  greatly  weakened  by  the 
bloody  struggle  through  which  it  had  just  passed, 
and  the  activity  of  the  government  allowed  its 
enemies  no  time  for  concentration.  The  rebellion 
was  suppressed  without  difficulty.  Charles  the 
Seventh  travelled  through  his  dominions,  accompa- 
nied not  only  by  his  slender  court,  but  by  his 
artillery,  his  gendarmes,  and  his  provost-marshals, 
battering  the  strongholds  of  refractory  chiefs,  and 
hunting  down  the  icorchmrs  with  merciless  rigor. 
When  a  gallows  was  not  at  hand,  they  were  strung 
up  to  the  branches  of  the  trees,  or  tied  in  sacks 
and  thrown  into  the  rivers.  In  this  rude,  ambula- 
tory way  the  "  king's  justice  "  onee  more  showed  its 
stem  presence  in  the  land.**    The  timid  merchant 


necessity  for  these  measures  and  ac- 
knowledging their  efficacy,  should 
pronounce  an  invective  against  their 
authors,  pretending  that  the  system 
of  feudid  le\i>,s  offered  sufficient 
means  for  the  protection  of  the  coun- 
trj',  and  branching  oiit  into  a  de- 
clamatory harangue  on  the  overthrow 
of  popular  liberty,  (meaning  thereby 
feudal  anarchy,)  and  the  evils  of  des- 
potism, illustrated  by  references  to 
ancient  history,  is  matter  of  amuse- 
ment rather  than  surprise.  That 
Sismondi  and  some  other  modem 
writers  should  have  fallen  into  a  sim- 
ilar tone  is  an  evidence  of  the  arbi- 


trary power  of  mere  words  and  com- 
moni)lace  phraccs  over  the  thoughts 
and  opinions  of  even  penetrating 
minds.  —  See  some  remarks  on  the 
first  formation  of  standing  armies, 
and  its  supposed  connection  with  the 
establishment  of  despotic  govern- 
ments, postea.  Book  II.  chap.  3. 

**  Olivier  de  Lamarche  bears  strik- 
ing testimony  to  the  zeal  and  indus- 
try with  which  this  needful  Avork  was 
prosecuted  :  "  Certifie  que  la  riviere 
(le  Sosne  et  le  Doux  estoyent  si  pleins 
de  corps  et  de  eharongnes  d'iceux 
escorcheurs,  que  maintesfois  les  pe- 
Bcheurs  les  tiroyent  en  lieu  de  pois-- 


'•« 


[book  I. 

ie  intentions 
attitude  of 
ome  for  the 
wo  systems, 
ned  by  the 
just  passed, 
allowed  its 
he  rebellion 
Charles  the 
IS,  accompa- 
but  by  his 
Dst-marshals, 
■  chiefs,  and 
'ciless  rigor, 
were  strung 
ied  in  sacks 
ide,  ambula- 
sliowed  its 
d  merchant 


words  and  com- 
er the  thoughts 
en   penetrating 
remarks  on  the 
itanding  armies, 
mection  with  tlie 
Dspotic  govern- 
II.  chap.  3. 
rche  hears  strik- 
zeal  and  indus- 
cedful  work  was 
ie  que  la  riviere 
stoyent  si  pleins 
•ongnes  d'iceux 
iitesfois  les  pe- 
rn lieu  de  pois- 


CHA.F.  I.] 


ftETUEN  OF  PEACE. 


u 


ventured  back  to  the  ancient  routes.  The  peasants 
crept  from  their  hiding-places,  and  looked  around 
for  their  ruined  dwellings  and  wasted  fields.*^ 

In  that  part  of  the  country  which  had  been  the 
chief  theatre  of  the  English  war  the  return  of  peace 
was  hailed  with  a  peculiar  joy.  The  efFeci  was  like 
that  of  the  south-west  wind  so  impatiently  expected 
by  the  ice-bound  voyagers  in  Arctic  climes,  which, 
when  it  com v^?,  dissolves  in  a  single  night  the  obstruc- 
tions to  their  progi'<.  ss  or  return.  For  nearly  thirty 
years  the  inhabitants  of  the  north  of  France,  cooped 
up  in  the  walled  towns,  had  endured  the  perils,  the 
privations,  and  the  anxieties  of  a  continuous  siege. 
In  the  chronicles  of  the  time  there  is  no  picture 
more  touching  than  that  of  the  manner  in  which 
these  poor  captives  welcomed  the  announcement  of 
their  deliverance.  Hastening  .first  to  the  churches 
and  the  shrines  of  the  saints,  they  poured  forth 
the  emotions  of  gratitude  with  which  in  that  long 
looked-for   hour   every   heart  was   full.     Many   of 


son,  deux  h,  deux,  trois  h  trois  corps, 
lies  et  accouples  de  cordes  ensem- 
ble." Men.oires,  tom.i.  p.  291.  Some- 
times the  sack  bore  on  the  outside 
the  significant  inscription,  "  Laissez 
passer  la  justice  du  Roi ! "  At  least, 
an  instance  —  of  earlier  date,  how- 
ever —  is  mentioned  by  Lefevre  de 
Saint-Remy,  (ed.  Buchon,)  toin.  i. 
p.  52. 

*'  "  Turn  publica  itinera,  absque 
rerum  et  corporum  discrimine,  fre- 
quentare  videres ;  turn  omne  homi- 
nimi  genus,  potiasime  negociatores, 


crumenas  auro  refertas,  quod  paulo 
ante  in  secretis  natural  visceribus, 
prffidonum  metu,  recondebant,  tu- 
tissimum  palam  deferre  et  do  una  in 
alteram  patriam  proficisci  la-tantur." 
Blondel,  Assertio  Normannite,  cited 
by  Quicherat  in  his  edition  of  Ba- 
sin, tom.  i.  p.  173,  note.  Lamarche 
speaks  of  the  new  military  organiza- 
tion as  "  belle  et  profitable  chose 
pour  Ie  Royaume ;  et  par  ce  moyen 
cesserent  les  Escorcheurs  et  les  gens 
de  eompaignies  leur  courses  et  leur 
pilleries."  Memoires,  tom.  i.  p.  407. 


46 


RETURN  OF  PEACE. 


[boos  I. 


i 


ini 


them  set  out  at  once  upon  distant  pilgrimages,  in 
fulfilment  of  vows  made  during  their  season  of 
trial.  But  the  common  impulse  was  that  of  the 
bird  escaped  from  his  cage  into  the  freedom  and 
the  air  of  his  native  woods.  Tlie  streets  were 
thronged  with  young  and  old,  of  both  sexes  and 
of  all  conditions,  who,  as  soon  as  the  gates  were 
opened,  streamed  forth  in  all  directions,  eager  to 
behold  the  sights  a.  id  scenes  which  some  remem- 
bered vaguely  as  visions  of  their  childhood,  and 
others  had  never  visited  or  gazed  upon  before. 
The  meadows,  the  running  brooks,  the  sylvan  glades, 
even  the  wild  and  desolate  features  of  the  land- 
scape, were  sources  of  wonder  and  of  exquisite 
delight.*'  Yet  with  these  grateful  sensations  of  nov- 
elty and  new-gained  freedom  were  mingled  feelings 
of  a  different  cast.  Gray-haired  men  were  seen 
seeking  for  tho  sites  of  their  former  dwellings,  and 
striving  to  identify  the  spots  associated  in  their 
memory  with  the  cares,  the  joys,  the  sacred  sorrows, 
of  a  distant  past.^^  Little  remau:.ed  to  assist  their 
recollections  or  to  aid  them  in  the  search.  The 
ashes  of  their  ruined  homes  had  long  since  disap- 
peared. The  fields  they  had  once  tilled  were  now 
covered  with  woods.  Even  the  highways  were  no 
longer  discernible.^^    The  traces  of  earUer  habitation 


M 


*•  "  Juvabat  et  silvas  viclere,  et  rant,  fama  dumtaxat,  experimento 

agros,  licet  ubiquc  pocne  squalentes  vero  nulla  notitia  habebatur."    Ba- 

et  dcsertos,  vircntia  prata,  fontcsque  sin,  torn.  i.  p.  162. 

atque  amnes,  et  aquarum  rivulos  in-  *''  Lamarche,  Mcmoires. 

tueri;  de  quibus  quidcm  a  multis,  *^  Buoin,  torn.  i.  p.  118. 
qui  urbium  claustra  nunquam  exie- 


CHAP.  I.] 


KETUitN  OP  PEACE. 


47 


and  of  later  destruction  seemed  alike  obliterated. 
Nature,  stern  and  solitary,  reigned  over  a  region 
which  centuries  before  had  been  rescued  from  her 
sway  by  the  energies  of  man,  but  which,  forfeited 
by  his  follies  and  his  crimes,  had  again  become 
subject  to  her  claim. 


f 


t 


I'll  I 


ilt 


CHAPTEE   II. 

DOMINIONS,  COURT,  AND   POLICY   OP   PHILIP  THE   GOOD. 

The  existing  territorial  divisions  of  France,  though 
not  altogethei  arbitrary  in  their  arrangement  and 
nomenclature,  do  not,  like  those  which  they  have 
superseded  in  the  maps  and  official  records,  repre- 
sent the  broader  diversities  in  the  geography  of 
the  country,  or  those  distinctions  of  origin,  habits, 
dialect,  and  history  which  constitute  what  may  be 
termed  the  etymology  of  the  nation. 

The  names,  therefore,  of  the  ancient  provinces, 
connected  with  so  many  familiar  associations  in  the 
present  and  in  the  past,  are  not  likely  ever  to  fall 
entirely  into  disuse.  That  of  Burgundy  calls  up  a 
picture  of  smiling  vineyards,  sheltered  hill-sides 
where  a  climate  and  a  soil  peculiarly  adapted  to 
this  species  of  culture  give  a  golden  beauty  to 
the  vintage.'     It  carries  the  imagination  back  to 


'  The  Cote  iJHOr  is  usually  sup-  some  connection  with  the  lustre  and 

posed  to  have  derived  its  name  from  rich  color  of  the  wine  and  of  the 

the  great  luxuriance  of  its  vines  and  grapes.    There  is  a  costly  species 

the  value  of  their  jield.     The  name  of  Burgundian  wine  which  is  called, 

may  possibly,  however,  have   had  from  its  golden  hue,  gouttes  d'or. 

(48) 


CUAF.  II.] 


DUCHY  OF  BURGUNDY. 


49 


what  was  mosu  imposing  in  the  manners  and  insti- 
tutions of  the  Middle  Ages  —  to  rich  abbeys  and 
lordly  castles,  to  scen'^s  of  festive  pomp  and  bril- 
liant feats  of  arms.  It  suggests  recollections  of  the 
most  fascinating  pages  in  the  literature  of  France 
—  the  vinous  fecundity  of  sentiment  and  easy  copi- 
ousness of  expression  that  characterize  such  writers, 
dissimilar  in  all  other  respects,  as  Bossuet,  Buffon, 
and  Lamartine.- 

Few  provinces  are  still  so  rich  in  the  traces  and 
memorials  of  an  illustrious  past.  The  cities,  small 
but  stately,  adorned  with  many  fountains  and  spa- 
cious public  walks,  have  an  air  of  faded  splendor, 
suggestive  not  of  any  former  state  of  commercial 
activity^  or  the  vulgar  opulence  of  a  prosperous 
burgher  life,  but  of  the  assemblings  of  princes, 
statesmen,  soldiers,  and  ecclesiastics  —  of  the  pride 
and  magnificence  of  martial  courts.  The  buildings 
and  antiquities  are  of  many  races  and  various 
epochs  —  relics  of  the  mysterious  Druidic  worship, 
temples  and  statues  of  the  old  Roman  gods,  and 
Christian  churches  in  the  purest  styles  of  Gothic 
architecture.     Amidst  the  granitic  fastnesses  of  the 


*  Burgundy  has  been  always  pre- 
eminent among  tlie  French  ))rovince8 
for  the  number  and  fame  of  its  men 
of  letters,  and  especially  of  its  ora- 
tors. It  owed  its  early  distinction 
in  this,  as  in  some  other  respects,  to 
the  influence  of  the  Benedictines. 
Voltaire  assigned  to  Dijon  the  rank 
of  the  second  town  in  France  in  re- 
spect to  literary  activity. 

A  compatriot  and  friend  of  Lamar- 
VOL.  1.  7 


tine  made  use,  in  the  writer's  hearing, 
of  a  truly  Burgundian  metaphor  to 
describe  the  exuberance  of  the  poet's 
genius :  "  He  has  only  to  open  the 
tap,  and  the  poetry  runs  of  itself." 

'  At  Dijon,  the  workshops  and 
dwellings  of  the  artisans  were  out- 
side the  walls,  and  the  streets  in  the 
suburbs  were  called  by  the  names 
of  the  different  trades.  Courtepee, 
torn.  ii.  p.  53. 


f 


50 


DUCHY  OF  BURGUNDY. 


[book  I. 


i       *• 


■ 

'^             ii 

mountain  range  that  intersects  the  country  the 
Gauls  are  supposed  to  have  made  their  last  stand 
against  the  conquering  legions  of  Ccesar,  losing  in 
a  single  battle  more  than  eighty  thousand  men. 
During  the  Middle  Ages  the  soil  was  the  property 
of  a  numerous  and  powerful  nobility,  —  whose  ru- 
ined castles  still  lie  scattered  amongst  the  hills, — 
and  of  great  religious  communities,  famous  beyond 
all  others  in  the  west  of  Europe  —  among  them 
Cluny,  the  most  renowned  of  the  Benedictine  con- 
vents J  Citeaux,  the  head  of  the  great  Carthusian 
order,  and  the  parent  establishment  of  more  than 
three  thousand  religious  houses ;  Clairvaux,  founded 
by  Bernard,  the  most  illustrious  of  Burgundians,  and 
the  most  eminent  among  the  fathers  of  the  Gallican 
church ;  and  Vezelay,  now  a  ruin  in  the  midst  of  a 
rocky  solitude,  but  once  the  largest  and  most  mag- 
nificent of  monasteries,  where  the  same  great  orator 
and  saint  aroused  by  his  impassioned  eloquence  the 
drooping  spirit  of  the  Crusades.'' 

There   is  little  in  the  present   condition   of  the 
country  to  dissipate   the  impression   made   by  the 


♦  Courtc'pce,  passim.  —  Hist,  de 
Bourgogne,  torn.  i.  pp,  147-152, 302, 
304,  et  al.  —  Ilclyot,  Diet,  des  Or- 
dres  Religieux.  —  Lavergne,  Mem. 
sur  I'Economie  rurale  de  la  France, 
(Seances  et  Travaux  de  I'Acad.  des 
Sciences  morales  et  politiques,  Avril, 
1856.) 

It  is  scarcely  necessarj-  to  draw 
the  reader's  notice  to  the  fact,  not 
exemplified  in  Burgundy  alone,  that 
the  situations  most  favorable  to  the 


culture  of  the  grape  were  also  found 
especially  suited  to  the  growth  of 
monastic  establishments.  Many  of 
the  most  noted  vineyards  of  Europe 
still  bear  the  names  of  the  genial 
fraternities  by  whom  they  were  first 
planted.  The  truth  is,  tliat  the  monks 
were  the  "model  farmers"  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  often  the  earliest  pio- 
neers in  clearing  the  soil,  always  the 
most  skilful  and  intelligent  in  devel- 
oping its  resources. 


[book  I. 


CHAP.  11.) 


DUCHY  OF  BURGUNDY. 


6t 


luntry  the 
last  stand 
',  losing  in 
sand   men. 
e  property 
-whose  ru- 
he  hills, — 
)us  beyond 
long   them 
lictine  con- 
Carthusian 
more  than 
iix,  founded 
iidians,  and 
lie  Gallican 
midst  of  a 
most  mag- 
jreat  orator 
quence  the 

ion   of  the 
ide   by  the 

were  also  found 

the  growth  of 
cuts.     Many  of 

ards  of  Europe 
s  of  the  genial 

they  were  first 
,  that  the  monki 
armers  "  of  the 
the  earliest  pio- 

aoil,  always  the 
iUigent  in  devel- 


)' 


remains  that  attest  its  former  greatness.  Tlie 
animation  of  chivalry,  the  gayetios  and  ceremonies 
of  a  picturesque  age,  have  vanished ;  but  their 
place  is  not  supplied  by  the  industrial  activity 
or  the  experimental  and  inventive  spirit  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  Burgundy  is  unsuited  by  its 
situation  to  become  the  seat  of  an  extensive  com- 
merce. Nor  does  the  culture  of  the  vine,  requiring 
a  simple  though  careful  husbandry,  call  for  the  aid 
of  science,  or  give  a  stimulus  to  other  branches  of 
industry.  It  has  occasioned,  where  the  soil  is  fruit- 
ful, an  excessive  subdivision  of  landed  property, 
with  a  consequent  deterioration  in  the  quality  and 
relative  value  of  the  productions,  as  well  as  an 
overplus  in  the  number  and  an  absence  of  any  im- 
provement in  the  condition  of  the  cultivators."  In 
other  parts  of  the  province,  a  large  portion  of  the 
surface  is  left  wild  and  uncultivated ;  many  tracts 


*  Arthur  Young  founds  his  strong- 
est arguments  against  la  petite  citl- 
ture  on  the  condition  of  the  wine- 
growing distiicts.  See,  in  particular, 
the  interesting  and  striking  remarks 
in  his  Travels  in  France,  vol,  ii.  pp. 
221-223.  The  enormous  product, 
in  favorable  years,  from  a  very  small 
portion  of  ground,  and  the  fact  that 
no  great  outlay  of  capital,  or  any 
other  than  manual  labor,  is  required, 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  constant 
care  and  close  attention  arc  indis- 
pensable, for  the  successful  cultiva- 
tion of  the  vine,  are  the  causes  of 
that  minute  division  of  the  land 
with  which  it  is  so  often  found  con- 
nected.   These  circumstances,  how- 


ever, would  render  it  in  fact  peculiarly 
adapted  to  "  peasant  properties,"  but 
for  the  extreme  uncertainty  of  the 
crop,  frequently  resulting  in  a  total 
loss,  and  in  the  consequent  destitu- 
tion of  the  small  proprietors.  M.  de 
Lavergnc  writes,  in  1850,  "  Malheu- 
reusement,  depuis  quelques  annees, 
les  intemperies  ont  fait  disparaitrc 
Ji  pen  pres  la  recolte.  ...  II  n'y  a 
presque  pas  d'industrie  dans  1' Yonne ; 
la  Cote  d'Or  en  a  davantage,  maia 
pas  assez  pour  donner  un  grand  es- 
sor  h  la  production  rurale.  La  moiti<S 
du  pays  n'est  qu'une  solitude ;  dans 
I'autre  rcgnent  la  petite  propricte  et 
la  petite  culture."  Economic  rurale 
de  la  France. 


52 


FRANCHE-COMT^. 


[UOOK    I. 


^lii- 


^1 


t 


once  occupied  liave  been  deserted ;  and  that  grad- 
ual diminution  of  the  rural  popidation  which  has 
of  late  become  noticeable  throughout  France  seems 
here  to  have  been  a  subject  of  anxiety  and  com- 
plaint during  the  last  two  centuries." 

Franche-Comte,  or  the  Free  County  of  Burgundy, 
—  the  country  of  the  ancient  Sequani,  —  had  been 
the  original  seat  of  the  Burgundian  power  in  Gaul, 
and  the  nucleus  of  that  kingdom  the  history  and 
extent  of  which  were  briefly  noticed  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  last  chapter.  After  a  long  separation 
from  the  duchy  of  Burgundy,  it  ngain  became 
subject  to  the  same  rule  in  the  early  part  of  the 
fourteenth  century.  It  was  a  fief,  however,  not  of 
France,  but  of  the  Empire,  though  s*ituated  within 
the  natural  boundaries  of  France,  governed  by  a 
line  of  princes  of  French  descent,"  and  inhabited  by 
ji  people  who  spoke  the  French  language.  On  the 
death  of  Philip  de  Rouvres,  it  passed  to  his  Avidow, 
Margaret  of  Flanders,  and  formed  part  of  the  mag- 
nificent dowry  which  that  princess  brought  to  her 
second  husband,  Philip  the  Bold  of  Burgundy.  Sub- 
sequently to  the  period  of  this  history  it  was 
united   to   the  dominions  of  the  house  of  Austria, 


*  Vauban,  the  great  military  engi- 
neer, himself  a  native  of  Burgundy, 
•WTote  a  paper  on  this  subject,  which 
he  presented  to  the  government  of 
Louis  XIV.  Courtepee,  in  the  eigh- 
teenth century,  makes  the  same  com- 
plaints. M.  de  Lavergne,  who  men- 
tions the  paper  of  Vauban,  draws  a 


similar  picture  of  the  present  state 
of  tilings  ;  and  liis  statements  seem 
to  be  confiiTOed  by  the  statistical  re- 
turns more  recently  publislicd.  Yet 
the  very  continuance  during  so  long 
a  period  of  tliis  asserted  decline 
might  lead  one  to  suspect  some  error 
or  exaggeration. 


ciur.  11.] 


FRANCHE-COMT^. 


53 


and  remained  in  their  possession  till  conquer'  1 
and  annexed  to  France  by  Louis  the  Fourteenth, 
in  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  century. 

Bordered  by  the  duchy  on  the  west,  and  on  the 
east  and  south  by  Switzerland,  it  presents  a  grad- 
ually ascending  surface,  that  reaches  its  highest 
point  in  the  summits  of  the  Jura.  This  variety  of 
elevation  occasions  a  corresponding  diversity  of  cli- 
mate and  productions.  On  the  lower  slopes,  maize, 
and  even  the  vine,  are  cultivated  with  success ;  but 
the  more  mountainous  portions,  for  the  most  part 
wood  and  pasture  lands,  offev  the  thousand  aspects 
of  Alpine  scenery,  by  turns  lovely  and  sublime, 
and  wanting  only  the  "eternal  glaciers"  to  com- 
plete the  resemblance.'' 

Nor  is  the  resemblance  confined  to  the  appear- 
ance of  the  country ;  it  extends  also  to  the  character 
and  the  occupations  of  the  people.  If  in  the  duchy 
of  Burgundy  the  mingled  gay -ty  and  sentiment 
peculiar  to  the  Gallic  race,  the  love  of  public  shows 
and  festive  meetings,  the  taste  for  ornate  and 
pathetic  eloquence  and  poetry,  are  more  conspic- 
uous than  elsewhere,  Franche-Comte,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  the  home  of  a  sedate  and  serious  peo- 
ple, accustomed  to  reflection  and  to  solitude.  Its 
distinguished  men  have  been  jurists,  statesmen,  phi- 
losophers,  and    critics.®     The    peasantry,   noted   for 


'  Lavergne,  Economle  rurale  de  la  '  Among  the  distinguished  natives 

France.  —  Gollut,  Memoires  histo-  of  Franche-Comte,  one  of  the  latest, 

riques  de  la  Republique  Sdquanoise,  Cuvier,  has  perhaps  acquired  the 

(,ed.  Duvernoy,  Arbois,  1846,)  liv.  ii.  widest  fame.  But  readers  of  Robert- 


w 


X 


54 


FRANCHE-COMTE. 


[book  I. 


fi  :jj 


i 


I      I  ■  m 
■   'iifi 


h^' 


1 

■s 

! 

■ 

J 

'.     i 

i4ii« 

intelligence,  industry,  and  thrift,  devote  the  long 
evenings  of  the  winter  months  to  reading  and  other 
sedentary  pursuits.  Nowhere  has  the  division  of 
the  soil  into  small  properties  been  attended  with 
happier  effects  than  here.  The  want  of  large  ca]> 
ital  in  single  hands  is  supplied  by  the  principle  of 
association.  Each  village  is  a  little  republic,  where 
the  common  interests  are  the  object  of  a  sedulous 
and  methodical  administration.  The  great  dairies 
for  which  the  country  is  fiimous  are  managed  in 
the  same  manner.  The  owner  of  a  single  acre  or 
a  single  cow  shares  the  same  advantages  as  his 
wealthier  neighbors.  The  eye  of  the  traveller  in 
every  where  attracted  not  merely  by  the  charms 
of  the  landscape,  but  by  the  evidences  of  a  simple 
prosperity  equally  diffused  and  rationally  enjoyed. 
In  the  spring,  when  the  snow  lias  begun  to  melt, 
the  cattle  are  seen  ascending  in  long  files  to  the 
spare  but  aromatic  pastures  of  the  mountain  crev- 
ices, where  they  pass  both  day  and  night  in  the  open 
air,  dispersing  at  the  approach  of  winter,  and  return- 
ing to  the  v^alleys  and  their  accustomed  shelter.* 


son  and  of  Prescott  will  recall  with 
interest  the  names  of  the  two  Gran- 
velles  —  the  able  and  astute  minis- 
ters of  Charles  V.  and  Philip  II, 
A  writer  in  the  Mdmoires  de  I'ln- 
stitut  (Academie  des  Inscriptions, 
torn.  i.\.  and  xii.)  remarks  that  the 
Franche-Comtois  is  to  the  Bnr^'un- 
dian  what  reason  is  to  the  imagina- 
tion. "  II  est  franc,  mtelligent,  assez 
gai,  hospitable,  naturellement  bon  ; 
d'ailleurs  trop  liomme  d'ordre,  trop 


cconome,  trop  egoistc  mOme,  pour 
ne  point  raisonner  ses  rares  mouve- 
ments  de  generositw."  He  is  do- 
scribed  also  as  a  born  mathemati- 
cian, and  as  possessing  a  natural 
aptitude  for  every  branch  of  science. 
No  other  province  sends  yearly  so 
large  a  number  of  pupils  to  the  Po- 
lytechnique. 

'  These  meagre  details  have  been 
almost  wholly  borrowed  from  the 
excellent  and  graphic  sketch  of  M. 


CHAP.  II>] 


FRANCHE-COMPTE. 


55 


In  comparing  the  present  with  the  past  condition 
of  these  provinces,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  remind 
the  reader  of  the  changes  that  have  taken  place 
in  their  poHtical  and  social  institutions.  At  the 
period  to  which  our  history  relates;  feudalism  still 
overshadowed  the  soil  in  nearly  every  part  of 
Europe.  Nowhere  had  this  system,  which  gave  a 
military  form  to  the  whole  structure  of  society  and 
made  every  other  pursuit  subordinate  to  that  of 
arms,  struck  deeper  roots  than  in  Burgundy,  a 
frontier  land,  and  the  habitation  from  the  earliest 
ages  of  a  warlike  race,  whore  every  rock  had  its 
castle  and  every  town  was  a  fortress.^"  "  Our  Bur- 
gundy," says  an  old  writer,  "  is  not  wealthy ;  it  has 
no  large  revenues;  it  has  nothing  to  tempt  attack, 
and  it  is  admirably  provided  with  the  means  of  de- 
fence ;  it  is  trenched  by  rivers  and  morasses,  scarped 
by  rocks  and  mountains,  and  peopled  by  men  lit 
for  war,  obstinate  in  combat,  resolute  to  the  death."" 


de  Laverg^e.  But  the  elaborate  de- 
scription of  GoUut,  —  by  far  the  most 
valuable  and  interesting  portion  of 
liis  work,  —  thougli  not  compressi- 
ble into  a  few  sentences,  is  pervaded 
with  a  charm  rarely  found  in  the 
WTitings  of  later  topogi'aphers. 

'"  The  usual  derivation  of  littr- 
()undy  and  Burgundian  from  hurg, 
hourg,  or  burgus,  a  castle  or  forti- 
fied place,  (or  from  berg,  a  hill,)  and 
li'ohner,  or  houde,  "  dwellers,"  or 
"  keeper'!,"  though  shaken  by  the 
arguments  of  some  modem  writers, 
will  scarcely  be  exchanged  for  any 
of  the  etymologies  which  they  have 


proposed  to  substitute.  AugustLi 
Thieri*j'  prefers  Buhi'-Gunden,  which 
he  translates  "  hommes  de  gueiTe 
confeddrc's."  M.  de  Belloguet  con- 
tends for  Borgiindar,  (from  Bor  and 
kundar,)  "  cnfants  de  Bor,"  or  "  fils 
du  Vent,"  which  has  at  least  the 
merit  of  supporting  his  theorj'  of  a. 
Scandinavian  admixture. 

"  "  Nostre  Bourgogne  est  en  ccttc 
condition,  car  elle  n'est  riche;  ellc 
n'est  de  grand  reucnu ;  elle  ne  pou- 
roit  r'cmbourser  les  frais  qu'un  vein- 
queur  feroit  sur  sa  conquestc ;  ellc 
est  fornie  admirablement  de  difficul- 
tds  propres  k  sa  deffense;  cUc  est 


66 


THE  NETHERLANDS. 


[book  I. 


f 

ill 

1 

j 

( 

1 

■    i  ' 

k       i 

, 

i 
1 

Its  sovereigns  in  the  fifteenth  century  accounted 
for  the  slender  subsidies  which  they  obtained  from 
it  by  its  having  shared  in  the  calanaities  that  had 
befallen  France.  But,  if  it  did  not  furnish  them 
with  money,  it  supplied  them  with  a  splendid  cav- 
alry amounting  to  a  third  of  the  whole  number  of 
their  troops.'* 

In  the  Netherlands,  the  house  of  Burgundy  had 
gradually  extended  its  sway  over  eleven  provinces, 

—  some  of  them  German  fiefs,  and  others  French, 

—  comprising  the  present  kingdoms  of  Holland  and 
Belgium,  with  the  exception  of  Gueldres,  Friesland, 
and  the  principality  of  Liege,  and  including,  on  the 
west,  territory  that  has  since  been  added  to  that  of 
France."     With  the  general  features  of  the  country 


entrccoupee  et  comme  retranchde  de 
riuiercs  et  forestz,  armee  de  rocliers 
et  montagiies,  asseuree  de  destroitz 
ou  marescagcs,  fomie  tres  populeusc- 
ment  d'hommcs  bons  h  la  guerre, 
opiniastrcs  au  combat,  resolus  k  la 
mort."     Golliit,  col.  12  L 

'*  Gachard,  Documents  inddits 
concemant  I'Histoire  de  Belgique, 
torn.  i.  p.  220.  And  see  Dunod, 
Hist,  du  Comti  de  Bourgogne,  (Ui- 
jon,  1737,)  torn.  ii.  p.  37,  et  al. 

'•'  The  provinces  M'crc  acquired  in 
the  following  order :  Philip  the  Bold 
inherited  the  counties  of  Flanders 
and  Artois,  on  the  death  of  Louis 
van  Male,  in  1384.  His  second  son, 
Antony,  became  duke  of  Brabant 
and  Limbourg  hi  1406  ;  and,  on  the 
failure  of  lineal  descendants  from 
that  prince  in  1430,  both  duchies 
nure  adjudged,  though  not  without 


controversy,  to  his  nephew,  Philip 
the  Good,  »'ho  had  already  acquired 
Namur,  by  purchase,  in  1421.  The 
events  which  enabled  Philip  to  make 
himself  master  of  the  rich  inheritance 
of  Jacqueline  of  Bavaria  —  the  coun- 
ties of  Hainault,  Holland,  and  Zea- 
land —  form  one  of  the  most  strik- 
ing episodes  in  the  history  of  the 
fifteenth  century.  His  sovereignty 
over  these  thiee  provhices  dated 
from  1436.  Finally,  having  been 
constituted  the  protector  of  Luxem- 
bourg, the  possession  of  his  aunt, 
Elizabeth  of  Gorlitz,  he  was  recog- 
nized as  her  successor  by  the  estates 
of  that  duchy,  in  1462.  The  margra- 
viate  of  Antwerp  and  the  scigneury 
of  Malines  (Mechlin)  were  enclaves 
of  Brabant,  and  had  been  transferred 
at  the  same  period  and  in  the  same 
manner. 


CHAP.  11.3    CONDraON  IN  THE  lUTEENTH  CENTURY.  57 


the  reader  may  be  supposed  to  be  familiar,  since 
no  part  of  Europe  has  been  more  fully  or  more 
frequently  described.  In  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
century  the  traveller  who,  after  traversing  France, 
crossed  the  frontiers  of  Flanders,  —  the  wealthiest 
and  most  important  of  the  provinces,  —  compared 
himself  to  the  Israelites  when  they  had  quitted  the 
Desert  and  entered  the  borders  of  the  Promised 
Land.'*  Behind  him  was  a  country  thinly  peopled, 
almost  destitute  of  trade,  and  wearing  a  general 
aspect  of  poverty  and  desolation ;  while  before  him 
lay  a  vast  level  tract,  crowded  with  cities,  swarming 
with  population,  teeming  with  wealth,  alive  with 
Uie  industry  and  energy  of  men  who  had  created 
the  very  soil  on  which  they  dwelt,  and  who  seemed 
to  have  monopolized  the  commerce  and  manufac- 
tures of  the  world." 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that,  in  the  provinces 
which  now  constitute  the  kingdom  of  Belgium,  the 
cities,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  have  declined  in 
population  and  importance  since  the  close  of  the 
sixteenth  century.     Even  if  history  were  silent  on 


'*  "  Se  povoient  mieulx  dire  terres 
de  promission  que  nuUes  aultres  sei- 
pneuriea  qui  fussent  sur  la  terrc." 
Commines,  (cd.  Dupont,)  torn.  i. 
p.  19. 

'*  This  contrast  was  dra^vii  by 
Louis  XI.  in  his  reply  to  a  petition 
presented  to  hiin  by  the  inhabitants 
of  Rheinis,  soon  after  his  accession  : 
"  Se  quinquennio  prope  in  terns 
mansisse  liurguniliouum  ducis,  in 
quibuB  tarn  magniRca;  civitates  et 
VOL.  I.  8 


oppida  tam  opulcnta  .  .  .  popuUque 
ttmta  libertate  gaudentes,  tam  hones- 
tis  vestibus  amicti  et  culti  politique 
forent,  ut  felicitatis  atque  libertatis 
quoddam  specimen  cuncta  quuc  illic 
viderentur,  pructcnderent ;  .  .  .  e  di- 
vcrso  vero,  cum  primum  regnum  in- 
gressus  esset,  ubique  ruinas  et  di- 
rutas  macerias  invenisae,  squalentes 
vero  agros  atque  incultos,  velut  de- 
sertum  quoddam,"  &c.  Basui,  torn, 
ii.  p.  11. 


58 


THE  NETHERLANDS. 


[book  I. 


iix' 


this  point,  the  present  aspect  of  these  towns  would 
aflford  sufficient  evidence  of  the  changes  which  they 
have  undergone.  But  it  is  a  mistake  to  suppose 
that  previously  to  that  period  the  rural  districts 
had  attained  a  degree  of  prosperity  proportional  to 
that  of  the  towns  —  that  the  country  was  better 
cultivated  and  more  productive  than  almost  any 
other  part  of  Europe  —  that  it  presented  the  same 
appearance  of  minvte  and  garden-like  husbandry 
by  which  it  is  at  present  distinguished.  These  state- 
ments—  frequently  met  with  —  are  the  result,  in 
part  of  an  erroneous  impression  produced  by  the 
vague  eulogies  of  early  writers,  which  seem  descrip- 
tive of  a  state  of  things  such  as  actually  exists,  and 
in  part  of  an  unfounded  theory,  which  assumes  a 
necessary  connection  between  the  commercial  and 
the  agricultural  prosperity  of  a  country,  or,  in  other 
words,  takes  for  granted  an  increased  productiveness 
in  every  region  where  the  demand  has  increased.*" 


>«  Thus  Tc  are  tola  In  M'Culloch's 
Geograpliical  Dictionary  (art.  Bel- 
gium) that "  Flanders,  in  consequence 
of  its  great  commercial  prosperity, 
was  remarkable  for  the  advanced 
state  of  its  agriculture  long  before 
improvement  in  this  important  art 
was  observable  north  of  the  Alps 
and  PjTenecs.  .  .  .  The  necessity  of 
providing  for  constantly  increasing 
numbers  of  inhabitants  produced 
the  agricultural  perfection  for  whicli 
Flanders  has  long  been  renowned. . . . 
The  commerce  and  agiiculture  of 
Flanders  grew  together  ;  and,  in  or- 
der to  account  for  the  remarkable 


excellence  of  the  Flemish  husband- 
rj',  which  has  been  celebrated  for 
upwards  of  six  hundred  years,  it  is 
necessary  to  keep  in  view  the  close 
connection  which  in  that  countiy  ex- 
ists between  the  farmer,  the  manu- 
fiicturer,  and  the  merchant."  Were 
this  idea  correct,  —  were  the  agricul- 
ture of  Flanders  thus  dependent  on 
its  trade,  —  the  condition  of  the  ru- 
ral districts  would  have  sympathized 
with  that  of  the  towns,  and,  instead 
of  constantly  and  rapidly  advancing 
during  the  last  three  centuries,  would 
have  exhibited  a  corresponding  de- 
cline. The  writer  goes  on  to  remark, 


CHAP.  II.] 


STATE  OF  AGRICULTURE. 


59 


wns  would 
;vhich  they 
to  suppose 
al   districts 
ortional  to 
was   better 
ilmost   any 
I  the  same 
husbandry 
L^hese  state- 
result,  in 
ed   by  the 
em  descrip- 
exists,  and 
assumes  a 
lereial  and 
or,  in  other 
iluctiveness 
3reased.^*' 


emish  husband- 
celebrated  for 
red  years,  it  is 
view  the  close 
that  countiy  cx- 
mer,  the  manu- 
■chant."    Were 
ere  the  agricul- 
dependent  on 
.ition  of  the  ru- 
ve  sympathized 
is,  and,  instead 
)i;lly  advancing 
;enturics,  would 
responding  de- 
18  on  to  remark, 


It  is  with  reference  especially  to  the  present 
Belgian  provinces  of  East  and  West  Flanders '''  that 
such  assertions  are  made.     It  was  there  that  the 


II 


most  truly  and  most  pertinently,  that 
"were  the  whole  of  Flanders  laid 
out  in  large  farms,  and  a  third  or 
fourth  part  fallowed  every  year,  or 
a  half  left  in  natural  grass,  the  pop- 
ulation could  not  be  fed ;  and  in- 
stead of  exporting  agricultural  prod- 
uce, as  at  present,  a  great  importa- 
tion would  be  requisite  to  f  iply 
the  demand  of  internal  consump- 
tion." Now  this  hypothetical  case, 
if  somewhat  more  strongly  stated, 
Svould  be  au  accurate  description  of 
what  was  really  the  condition  of  the 
most  fertile  and  flourishing  district 
in  Flanders  during  the  period  when 
the  towns  were  at  the  height  of  their 
prosperity,  and  Mhen  the  excellence 
of  the  Flemish  husbandryis  supposed 
•fto  have  been  already  renowned. 

"  Some  of  the  misconceptions  rel- 
ative to  the  topic  under  discussion 
may  be  attributed  to  ignorance  or 
forgetfulness  of  the  changes  which 
have  taken  place  in  the  Umits  and 
divisions  of  Flanders,  (a  point  sel- 
dom elucidated  in  general  histories,) 
as  Mell  as  to  the  practice,  formerly 
so  common,  of  appljing  this  name  to 
tlie  whole  n  the  Belgian  provinces. 
In  the  Middle  Ages  Flanders  was 
politically  divided  into  two  provinces 
—  the  county,  i  French  fief,  compre- 
hending the  district  west  and  south 
of  the  Scheldt,  and  the  seigneurie,  or 
lordship,  a  small  tract  on  the  borders 
of  Brabant,  wliich  was  held  of  the 
Enijju'e.  But  the  more  popular  di- 
vision was  that  of  Teutonic  FJanders 


{Flandria  Teutonica,  Flandre  fla- 
mengant)  and  French  Flanders 
{Flandre  gallicant).  Both  the  pres- 
ent Belgian  provinces  of  East  and 
West  Flanders  were  embraced  in 
Teutonic  Flanders,  or  Flanders 
Proper,  which  contained,  in  the  six- 
teenth centur)',  seventeen  walled 
towns, — among  them  Ghent,  Bruges, 
Yprcs,  Courtray,  &c.,  —  and  twenty- 
three  "privileged"  or  incorporated 
towns  not  enclosed  by  walls,  besides 
a  great  number  of  villages.  French 
Flanders  —  so  called  not  oidy  be- 
cause the  French  was  the  common 
language  of  the  inhabitants,  bnt  be- 
cause this  territory  had  more  than 
once  been  seized  and  annexed  to 
their  domain  by  the  monarchs  of 
France,  though  it  was  not  till  a  for 
later  period  that  they  succeeded  in 
obtaining  permanent  possession  of  it 
—  contained  but  four  incorporated 
towns,  of  which  Lille  was  the  only 
one  comparable  for  the  amount  and 
value  of  its  manufactures  with  those 
of  Teutonic  Flanders.  It  was  to  tliis 
small  district,  forming  at  present  no 
part  of  Flanders  or  of  Belgium,  that, 
as  we  shall  presently  see,  the  com- 
mendations son.etimes  bestowed  by 
early  writers  on  the  Flemish  agiicul- 
ture  were  intended  to  apply.  The 
best  account  of  the  former  extent 
and  boundaries  of  Flanders  may  be 
found  in  Oudegherst,  Annales  de 
Flandre,  (cd.  Lesbroussart,  2  vols. 
8vo.,  Gand,)  torn.  ii.  cap.  169. 


'^t 


•!1 


60 


TIIE  NETHERLANDS. 


[uooK  ;. 


>      1 


Jiif  l| 


f    1 


towns  were  most  numerous,  and  that  commerce 
and  manufactures  attained  their  highest  state ;  it  is 
there  that  the  familiar  examples  are  now  furnished 
of  an  elaborate  culture  and  surpassing  productive- 
ness ;  and  the  present  and  the  past  unite  to  produce 
an  illusion,  which  will  be  dissipated  by  a  closer 
examination.  For  the  high  condition  of  Flemish 
agriculture  and  the  density'  of  the  rural  popula- 
tion can  be  shown  to  be  the  effects  of  changes 
which  have  taken  place  within  the  last  three  cen- 
turies; and  the  opposite  notion  is  contradicted  by 
facts  furnished  by  the  very  writers  from  whose 
general  phrases  it  has  been  derived.  The  soil  is 
for  the  most  part  naturally  poor,  or  even  abso- 
lutely sterile.  Much  of  it  was  originally  submergetl. 
Those  regions  which  yield  the  largest  crops  were 
formerly  marshes  or  sandy  wastes.  They  have 
been  brought  into  their  present  state  by  the  most' 
laborious  and  long-continued  efforts,  by  works  of 
drainage  on  the  largest  scale,  and  the  constant 
application  of  powerful  fertilizers.  In  these  prov- 
inces agriculture  had  made  but  little  progress  in 
the  fifteenth,  or  even  in  the  sixteenth,  century.  It 
was  an  important  branch  of  industry  only  in  that 
small  portion  of  Flanders  which  now  lies  within  the 
confines  of  France;  and  even  here  the  wealth  of  the 
inhabitants  consisted  chiefly  in  herds  of  cattle,  raised 
on  extensive  natural  pastures  which  have  since 
almost  wholly  disappeared.  Wheat,  now  the  princi- 
pal crop,  was  grown  only  in  the  same  district,  and 
not  in  sufficient  quantity  for  home  consumption.    It 


^  ^i 


CHAP,  n.] 


STATE  OF  AGRICULTURE. 


61 


commerce 
state ;  it  is 
V  furnished 
prod  ucti  ve- 
to produce 
y  a  closer 
of  Flemish 
•al  popula- 
of  changes 


submerged. 

crops  were 

they   have 

r  the  most 

works   of 

3    constant 

lese  prov- 

)rogress  in 

ntury.     It 

ly  in  that 

within  the 

iilth  of  the 

ttle,  raised 

lave    since 

the  princl- 

strict,  and 

nption.    It 


was  largely  imported  from  Artois  and  the  neighbor- 
incr  French  provinces,  from  England,  Spain,  Denmark, 
and  the  shores  of  the  Baltic;'*^  while  the  exportation 


"*  "  Et  multis  in  locis  pascuis 
Flandiia  ac  pratis  quam  arvo  melior 
est,  quo  fit  ut  peregrino  neccsse  ha- 
beat  uti  frumento.  Hoc  vicinnc  gen- 
tes  .  .  .  aft'atim  suppeditant,  ubertate 
acfri  lotuje  nobis  felicinres."  Rc- 
rum  Flaiuliicarum  Tomi  X.,  auctore 
Jacobo  Meyero  Balliolano,  (Biugis, 
1842,)  p.  77.  —  Glanville,  jin  Eng- 
lisli  monk,  who  wrote  about  the  mid- 
dle of  tlie  fourteenth  century,  de- 
scribes Flanders  as  "terra  pascuis 
uberrima  et  pccudibus  plena."  Reif- 
fenberg,  Commerce  des  Pays  bas  aux 
XV  et  XVI  sicclus,  (Mem.  Courou- 
nees  do  I'Acad.  de  Bruxelles,  torn.  i. 
p.  20.)  — "  Solum  .  .  .  sationi  et 
agriculture  in  genere  quidem  satis 
idoneum,  ac  mediocriter  fertile,"  any  n 
Guicciardini  —  a  description  which 
would  be  thought  strangely  inappli- 
cable at  the  present  day.  He  goes 
on,  liowever,  "  Alibi  vero  et  pra'ser- 
tim  versus  maritima  Galliamque," 
(the  neighborhood  of  Dixmudc  and 
the  French  departement  du  Nord,) 
*'  rane  cujusdam  fecunditotis."  But 
he  jjarticularizes  only  the  richness  of 
the  pastures  and  the  number  and  size 
of  the  cattle.  Belgicir,  sive  Inferio- 
ris  tjvrmania^  Descriptio,  (12mo., 
Amstelodami,  1652,)  p.  332.  Else- 
where he  characterizes  French  Flan- 
ders as  "  regio  parum  ampla,  bona 
tamen  et  pulchra,"  and  speaks  of  the 
soil  as  "  tritici  maxima  feracissi- 
mum."  Yet  we  know  from  other 
sources  that  even  here  the  quantity 
produced  was  insufficient  for  the 
wants  of  the  inhabitants ;  and  Guic- 


ciardini himself  adds,  "  Pascua  ejus 
uberrima,  ideoque  uberrimus  etiam 
qutt'stus  ex  pecudum  gregibus," 
(p.  402.) 

A  more  remarkable  passage  is  to 
be  found  in  an  exceedingly  rare  work 
of  the  Spanish  writer  Calvete  de  la 
Estrella:  "La  tierra  [in  Flanders 
generally]  por  la  multitud  de  la  g(!n- 
te,  que  ticne,  no  es  vmy  fertil  de 
pan,  principalmente  de  trigo,  antes 
por  la  mayor  parte  es  Uena  de  flores- 
tas,  de  prados,  de  pastos,  y  bosques, 
lagos,  estaques  y  rios,  que  aunque 
scan  poquenos,  son  los  mas  d'ellos 
navegables,  porque  en  inuicrno  no 
seria  posiljle  yr  por  mucha  parte 
d'ella  ii  cavallo,  ni  a  pie,  ni  en  carros, 
sino  fuese  por  los  tales  rios  y  fosos 
hechos  a  mano."  (Viaje  del  Principe 
Don  Phelipe,  Amveres,  lo-}2,  fol.  95 
verso.)  Here  we  see  that  Flanders, 
in  the  sixteenth  century,  was  still 
in  process  of  making,  its  condition 
being  similar  to  that  of  Holland  in 
the  seventeenth  century,  where  the 
"  quaking  ground,"  the  "  daily  del- 
uge," and  the  "  people  dwelling  in 
ships  "  afforded  a  fruitful  theme  for 
satire  to  the  writers  of  neighboring 
nations. 

In  both  French  and  Belgian  Flan- 
ders great  numbers  of  cattle  are  now- 
raised,  but  they  are  chiefly  stall-fed ; 
and,whilc  in  England  three  fourths  of 
the  soil  are  appropriated  to  the  rais- 
ing of  animals,  in  the  di'partement  du 
Nord,  where  they  are  proportionally 
more  numerous,  though  inferior  in 
breed,  the  products  of  one  quarter  of 


62 


THE  NETHERLANDS. 


[book 


I 


ii 


from  the  Netherlands  of  grahi  or  agricultural  prod- 
uce of  any  description  was  strictly  prohibited  by 
the  laws.'*'  A  great  portion  of  the  surface  — 
including  the  Pays  de  Waes  and  other  districts 
now  the  most  fertile  and  highly  cultivated  in  the 
country,  presenting  the  appearance  of  a  vast  garden 
whence  every  stone  and  weed  arc  carefully  removed 
-was  at  the  period  of  our  history  entirely  barren; 
tl  •  'oad  from  Dendemionde,  except  where  it  passed 
through  towns  and  villages,  traversed  plains  of  sand 
and  uninhabitable  bogs  that  extended  to  the  walls 
of  Bruges ;  and  it  was  not  till  about  the  year  1 530 
that  the  first  attempts  were  made  to  reclaim  and 
cultivate  the  soil  even  in  the  vicinity  of  the  prin- 
cipal cities.'* 


tha  surface  suffice  for  this  purpose. 
Lavcrgne,  Econoniie  rurale  de  la 
France,  (Seances  et  Travaux  de 
I'Acad.  des  Sciences  morales  et  po- 
litiques,  torn.  xv.  p.  I'M.)  The  su- 
periority of  the  English  cattle  was 
acknowledged  e\cn  in  the  sixteenth 
century. 

19  (( Triticum  insuper,  sccalc,  et 
quidquid  prwterea  frugum  est,  expor- 
tare  hinc  nefas."  Guicciardini,  p.  79. 

*"  Des  bohniischen  Hernn  Leos 
von  Rozmital  Hitter-,  Ilof-,  und  Pil- 
ger-Rcise  durch  die  Abenlande  HGj 
-14G7,bcschneben  von  zwcinen  sein- 
er Begleiter,  (8vo.,  Stuttgart,  1844.) 
—  "  NonnuUisque  in  locis,  agro  prm- 
cipue  Brugensi  ac  Gandensio  tantum 
non  stcrili,  ubi  tamen  nunc  vincere 
quidam  nituntur  soli  maliciam,  ter- 
ramque  hactenus  incultara  et  areno- 
sam  in  arva  redigere."    Meyer,  Re- 


rum  Flandricarum  Tonii  X.,  p.  78.  — 
Even  Guicciardini,  writing  in  the 
latter  half  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
and  always  inclined  to  exalt  and 
amplify  the  resources  of  the  Neth- 
erlands, speaks  of  the  soil  in  Teu- 
tonic Flanders  as  '•  magna  ex  parte 
cxuccum  et  sabulosum,  sic  ut  tritici 
parum  ferax  sit."  (p.  ii'M.)  He  adds 
that  some  other  kinds  of  grain,  buck- 
wheat and  rye,  were  produced  in 
abundance,  which  may  be  considered 
as  confirmatory  of  the  earlier  state- 
ment of  Meyer,  that  this  region  was, 
when  he  wrote,  only  beginning  to 
be  cultivated.  Calvete  de  la  Es- 
trella  says,  somewhat  contemptuous- 
ly, "  En  la  parte  Oriental  [Teutonic 
Flanders]  lo  mas  que  se  coge  es  cen- 
tcno."  Wheat  was  grown,  at  least 
in  any  considerable  amount,  only  in 
that  portion  of  Belgium  which   is 


II 


[book  1. 


OBAF.  II>] 


STATE  OF  AGRICULTURE. 


68 


Itural  prod- 
jhibited  by 
surface  — 
icr  districts 
ited  in  the 
vast  garden 
lly  removed 
rely  barren ; 
re  it  passed 
lins  of  sand 
o  the  walls 
3  year  1530 
reclaim  and 
3f  the  prin- 


In  such  a  region  agriculture  could  flourish  only 
under  favorable  circumstances  and  the  operation  of 
a  peculiar  stimulus.  But  during  the  Middle  Ages 
all  the  circumstances  were  unftivorable,  and  con- 
spired to  produce  the  opposite  result.  The  land, 
as  elsewhere  in  Europe,  was  subject  to  the  burdens 
and  monopolies  of  the  feudal  system.  It  Avas  cul- 
tivated chiefly  by  a  servile  class,  or  by  a  class  whose 
condition  was  but  little  removed  from  that  of  ser- 
vitude. On  the  other  hand,  the  sit  =iir  ^  of  the 
Netherlands  offered  peculiar  advanti'^^es  r  other 
pursuits,  which,  if  not  altogether  fr"3,  yere  subject 
at  least  to  no  degrading  condition  and  which 
tended,  therefore,  to  absorb  the  c  nital  and  indus- 


trial energies  of  the  inhabitants.*^' 


--vjn  the  villages 


'omiX.,p.  78. — 
writing  in  the 
xtpenth  century, 
d   to  exalt  and 
es  of  the  Neth- 
the  soil  in  Teu- 
magna  ex  parte 
um,  sic  ut  tritici 
•,mi)    lie  adds 
s  of  grain,  buck- 
re   produced  in 
ay  be  considered 
le  earlier  state- 
this  region  was, 
y  beginning  to 
veto  de  la  Es- 
t  contemptuous- 
iental  [Teutonic 
J  se  cogc  es  cen- 
growu,  at  least 
amount,  only  in 
Igium  wliich  is 


now  included  in  the  dominions  of 
France.  Artois  supplied  the  mar- 
kets of  Brussels,  Malines,  &c. 
(Guicciardini,  p.  436,  et  al.)  Ac- 
cording to  the  Venetian  envoy, 
Frederico  Badoero,  a  greater  quan- 
tity of  grain  was  raised  in  Artois 
than  in  all  the  other  provinces  to- 
gether. (Relazioni  degli  Ambascia- 
tori  Veneti,  Serie  I.,  vol.  iii.  p.  2S0.) 
So  also  Calvete  de  la  Estrella :  "  En 
la  Occidental  [French  Flanders]  se 
coge  tiigo,  y  bueno,  y  710  tanto  que 
baste  para  siistentarse  los  pueblos. 
Proveense  de  Artoes,  de  Francia,  do 
Dinamarca,  Alemafia,  y  otros  partes." 
(fol.95  verso.)  Wild  gmne  of  all  kinds 
was  exceedingly  plentiful.  (Idem, 
fol.  95  recto,  and  Guicciardini,  p. 
332.)  We  meet  with  no  mention  of 
villas  and  "  pleasure-houses  "  owned 
by  the  wealthier  inhabitants  of  the 


towns,  and  embellished  with  gardens 
and  lawns.  Had  the  custom,  now 
almost  universal  am"ngst  this  class 
of  the  population,  of  occupjing  rural 
residences  during  a  portion  of  the 
year  been  commonly  prac'.ised,  it 
would  hardly  have  escaped  mention 
by  Italian  wnters.  Tlie  citizens  of 
Brussels,  as  appears  from  Guicciar- 
dini, (p.  44,)  combined  the  obser- 
vance of  a  religious  duty  with  the 
gi'atification  of  their  taste  by  spend- 
ing a  few  weeks  in  summer  "  in  re- 
treat "  at  one  or  other  of  the  monastic 
houses  scattered  through  the  Forest 
of  Soignies,  "  non  minore  devotionc 
quam  animi  sui  solatio." 

"  Arthur  Young,  finding  the  ag- 
riculture "  miserable  "  in  the  Pays 
de  Caux,  (in  Normandy,)  states,  as 
the  explanation,  that  it  "  is  a  man- 
ufacturing country,  and  farming  is 


64 


THE  NETHERLANDS. 


[nooK  I. 


80  thickly  scattered  over  some  parts  of  the  country 
were  in  fact  embryo  towns,  where  the  sanie  bran  ^hes 
of  industry  were  carried  on  as  in  the  larger  placos." 
But  in  the  latter  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,  the 
trade  and  manufactures  of  Belgium  —  partly  from 
the  effect  of  great  political  convulsions,  partly 
through  the  competition  of  still  more  favored  local- 
ities and  the  rising  enterprise  of  England  and  of 
Holland  —  fell  into  a  decay  from  which  they  have 
but  recently  begun  to  recover.  The  towns  then 
discharged  their  super.abundant  population,  and 
labor  and  capital  were  directed  into  a  new  channel. 


I  I 


but  a  secondary  pursuit  to  the  cot- 
ton fhbric."  Mill  (Political  Econo- 
my, Amcr.  cd.,  vol.  i.  p.  327)  re- 
marks that  "  the  same  district  is  still 
the  seat  of  manufactures, .  . .  and  is 
now  .  .  .  one  of  the  best  cultivated 
in  France."  It  is  to  be  rcmembereij, 
however,  that  the  Pays  de  Caux  pos- 
sesses a  soil  of  great  natural  fertility, 
the  best,  in  fact,  in  the  whole  coun- 
try. The  general  tendency  of  an 
increase  of  manuflxctures  in  a  region 
not  greatly  favored  in  regard  to  cli- 
mate and  soil  is  to  cherk  the  growth 
of  the  agricultural  population.  This 
takes  place  not  merely  by  drawing 
away  labor  into  more  profitable  em- 
plo}Tnent,  which  would  perhaps  be 
only  a  temporary  result,  (except  in 
such  cases  as  that  of  Flanders  in  the 
Middle  Ages,  where  a  residence  in 
the  city  offered,  besides,  social  and 
political  enfranchisement,)  but  bj- 
creating  markets  which  the  home 
production  is  inadequate  to  supply, 
and  by  the  consequent  improvement 


in  the  means  of  communication  and 
other  facilities  for  obtaining  supplies 
from  distant  and  more  fertile  regions, 
which  are  thereby  stimulated  to  in- 
creased productiveness.  Thus  we 
see  that  iirXew  England,  at  the  pres- 
ent time,  while  hi  the  manufacturing 
towns  and  their  immediate  vicinity 
there  is  a  rapid  advance  in  the  pop- 
ulation, that  of  the  strictly  rural  dis- 
tricts is  i^tationary  or  declining.  It 
is  in  vain  that  the  orators  at  county 
meetings  and  "  fairs  "  exhort  the  New 
England  farmer  against  a  change  of 
occupation  or  removal  to  the  west. 

**  This  fact,  attested  by  various 
passages  in  the  chronicles  and  docu- 
ments of  the  times,  is  noticed  by  the 
Venetian  envoy  Vincenzo  Quirini, 
whoso  "  relation,"  the  earliest  yet 
discovered,  bears  the  date  of  150(5. 
"  No'  quali  [gli  villagi]  pur  si  tes- 
sono  panni  si  dalli  uomini  comme 
dalle  donne,  percho  pochi  lavomno 
ferre."  Ilclazioni  Vencte,  Serie  I., 
vol.  i.  p.  11. 


CHAP.  II.] 


STATE  OF  AGRICULTURE. 


65 


Another,  and  in  this  connection  a  still  more  impor- 
tant change,  has  been  the  removal  of  all  burdensome 
restrictions  on  the  holding  and  transfer  of  landed 
property.  A  great  portion  of  the  land  is  now  divided 
into  small  farms,  which  are  cultivated  with  an  assi- 
duity and  ardor  only  to  be  found  where  the  laborer 
is  himself  the  proprietor. 

There  is  probably  no  part  of  Europe  where,  at 
the  present  day,  the  land  is  more  carefully  tUled 
and  made  to  produce  a  larger  amount  than  in  the 
two  Flanders  and  the  plains  of  Lombardy.  In  the 
latter  region  the  soil  is  one  of  natural  and  almost 
unequalled  fertility ;  that  of  the  former  may  be 
described  as  an  artificial  soil,  created  by  the  skill 
and  industry  of  the  inhabitants,  and  liable,  if  their 
efforts  should  relax,  to  return  to  a  state  of  bar- 
renness. Yet,  owing  to  a  preferable  system  of 
tenure,  rather  than  to  any  superiority  in  the  methods 
or  implements  emploj^ed,  the  advantage  in  respect 
to  actual  productiveness  is  on  the  side  of  Flanders. 
But  it  is  certain,  from  the  testimony  of  two  highly 
intelligent  writers,  —  one  of  them  a  native  of  Flan- 
ders, the  other  of  Lombardy,  —  that  the  case  was 
wholly  different  three  centuries  ago.  Philippe  de 
Commines,  who  visited  Lombardy  in  1495,  after 
mentioning  that  the  country,  like  Flanders,  was 
intersected  by  numerous  ditches  and  canals,  (though 
he  fails  to  notice  the  distinction  in  the  purposes 
which  these  were  intended  to  serve  —  in  the  one 
case  chiefly  that  of  draining,  in  the  other  that  of 
irrigating   the   soil,)  tells  us  that  it  far  surpassed 

VOL.  I.  9 


GO 


TlIE  NETHERLANDS. 


[hook  I. 


Flanders  in  fruitfulncss  and  the  abundance  and 
excellence  of  its  corn  and  other  productions;  and 
he  adds  the  sij^nificant  fact  that  the  fields  were 
never  suffered  to  lie  fallow.*'  On  the  other  hand, 
the  Venetian  envoy  Michele  Soriano,  writing  in 
1551),  speaks  of  the  agricultural  condition  of  the 
Netherlands  with  extreme  contempt,  lie  describes 
the  country  as  at  once  the  richest  and  the  least 
productive  in  the  world.  "  It  is  unproductive,"  ho 
says,  "  in  part  from  the  unpropitious  character  of 
the  climate  and  the  soil,  and  in  part  through  the 
fault  of  the  inhabitants,  who  are  devoted  to  other 
pursuits,  and  give  little  attention  to  agriculture, 
leaving  the  greater  portion  of  the  surface  covered 
with  pasturage  and  woods."  ^* 


W  !       'J 


*  i 


*'  "  Au  dcscendre  de  la  montaip;ne, 
on  veit  le  plain  pays  de  Lombardic, 
qui  est  des  beaux  et  bous  du  monde, 
et  des  plus  babondaus,  et  combien 
qu'il  se  die  phun,  si  est  il  mnl  ayse  h 
chevaulcher  ;  car  il  est  tout  fossoyc, 
comnie  est  Flandres,  ou  encores  plus ; 
mais  il  est  bien  meillcur  et  plus  fer- 
tille,  tant  en  bons  formens  que  en 
bons  vins  et  fruictz,  et  ne  sejounient 
jamais  leurs  terres."  (Commines, 
torn.  ii.  p.  459.) — It  is  worthy  of  men- 
tion that  the  same  historian,  though 
born  in  that  part  of  Flanders  where 
the  chief  advance  had  then  been  made 
in  the  cultivation  of  the  soil,  while 
he  frequently  eulogizes  the  commerce 
and  riches  of  his  native  province,  has 
nothing  to  say  in  praise  of  its  agri- 
culture. This  silence  is  the  more 
significant,  since  he  pronounces  the 
country  around  Paris  the  most  fer- 


tile ancFbest  tilled  which  he  had  ever 
seen,  and  tells  us  of  the  unbounded 
astonishment  with  which,  during  his 
twenty  months'  imprisonment  in  one 
of  the  lofty  towers  of  the  royal  pal- 
ace, he  had  watched  from  his  windows 
the  transport  down  the  Seine  of 
the  immense  quantities  of  provisions 
brought  to  the  cajiital  from  the  adja- 
cent parts  of  Normandy.  M('moires, 
tom.  i.  p.  74,  and  Mdlle.  Dupont's 
'  Notice  "  prefixed,  pp.  ev.  cvi. 

"  "  Non  e  al  mondo  nlcun  altro 
paese  che  sia  insiemc  i)iii  sterile  e  ]nh 
ricco.  E  pill  sterile  parte  per  natura, 
e  per  il  cielo,  ch'  6  freddo  cd  umido, 
parte  per  poca  cura  degli  uomini,  li 
quali  attendono  piii  alia  mcrcanzia  e 
air  altre  arti,  che  all'  agrieoltura,  la- 
sciandc  andare  il  pacsc  a  pascoli  e  a 
bosclii,  come  fanno  anco  gl'  Liglesi 
il  loro."    (Relazioni  Venete,  Serie  I. 


■■si 
■■'■fi'' 


ll    I 


[llOOK    I. 


ClIAJ".  II.] 


CIVIC  COMMUNITIES. 


67 


ndaiicc    and 

Actions ;  and 

field H  were 

other  hand, 
,  writUij^  in 
ition  of  the 
lie  describes 
lid  the  least 
jductive,"  he 
character   of 

through  the 

>ted  to  other 

agriculture, 

dace  covered 


which  he  had  ever 
of  the  unbounded 
1  which,  durin},'  his 
ipiisonnient  in  one 
•s  of  the  royal  pal- 
■d  from  liis  windows 
)wn    the    Seine    of 
ititics  of  provisions 
[)ital  from  tiie  adja- 
mandy.   Mi'moires, 
d  Mdlle.  Dupimt's 
id,  pp.  cv.  cvi. 
mondo  nlcun  altro 
;me  piii  sterile  e  piii 
!le  parte  per  natura, 
e  freddo  cd  umido, 
ira  degli  uomini,  H 
)iii  alia  mcrcimzia  e 
air  a<,'ricoltura,  la- 
paesc  a  pascoli  e  a 
no  anco  j^l'  In},desi 
loni  Venete,  Serie  I. 


Yet  no  one — as  we  learn  from  the  same  autliority 
as  well  as  from  a  multitude  of  others  —  could  doubt 
the  incomparable  prosperity  of  the  Netherlands,  after 
witnessing  the  activity  of  their  commerce,  which 
supplied  them  with  all  the  products  of  the  earth,'^ 
and  the  number,  size,  and  continual  bustle  of  their 
towns.     Italy  itself,  uideed,  could  boast  of  no  district 


vol.  iii.  p.  ''io').)  —  So  also  Quirini 
tells  us  that  agriculture  was  neglect- 
ed because  there  was  little  land  to 
cultivate,  (i.  e.,  little  that  would  have 
repaid  the  labor  of  cultivating  it,) 
and  because  the  inhabitants  were 
otherwise  employed.  "  Yet,"  he 
adds,  "  there  is  an  abundance  of  all 
things ; "  and  Hadoero  assigns  the 
reason  of  this  abundance  — "  per 
causa  de'  mari  e  de'  inolti  fiumi." 
Kelazioiu  Venete,  Serie  I.  voL  iii. 
p.  290, 

On  the  whole,  it  would  seem, 
from  the  facts  and  citations  here 
presented,  and  others  which  might 
have  been  adduced,  that  the  agri- 
cultural condition  of  the  Belgian 
provinces  three  or  four  centuries 
ago  bore  little  resemblance  to  what 
it  now  is,  and,  instead  of  being  far 
in  advance  of  that  of  most  other 
countries  at  the  same  era,  might  in 
general  be  considered  as  backward. 
Artois,  French  Flanders,  and  the 
estern  part  of  Ilainault  —  compris- 
u  /  a  territory  which  now  lies  wholly 
witliin  the  confines  of  France  —  were 
the  k  .ily  wheat-producing  regions ; 
and  only  the  first-mentioned  prov- 
ince raised  more  grain  than  was  re- 
quired for  the  wants  of  its  own  pop- 
ulation.   There  are  grounds  for  be- 


lieving that  Picardy,  Normandy,  and 
some  other  parts  of  France,  Denmark 
and  many  portions  of  Germany,  to 
say  notiiing  of  the  countries  south  of 
the  Ali)s  and  Pyrenees,  had  reached 
a  more  advanced  state  in  this  re- 
spect. Even  I'higland,  decidedly  in 
the  rear  of  other  countries  at  that 
period,  was  able  occasionally  to  ex- 
port corn  to  the  A'etherlands.  In 
Teutonic  Flanders  a  great  portion 
of  the  surfii.e  was  still  unreclaimed, 
and  the  soil  was  nowhere  considered 
as  fit  for  wheat,  or  as  more  than 
moderately  fertile.  North  Brabant 
was  in  a  similar  state.  With  respect 
to  the  southern  provinces,  the  chief 
difference  to  be  noted  between  the 
present  appearance  of  the  country 
and  that  which  it  presented  at  the 
time  of  which  we  write,  is  the  for 
greater  area  then  covered  by  the 
natural  heath  —  which  still  forms  a 
characteristic  feature  of  the  land- 
scape —  and  by  the  forests,  which 
around  Brussels  and  other  towns 
extended  up  to  the  walls. 

"*  "  E  piu  ricco  per  il  gran  traffico 
che  ha  con  1'  Inghilterra,  con  la 
Francia,  con  la  Spagna,  con  la  Gcr- 
mania,  con  1'  Italia  e  con  tutto  11 
mondo."    Relazione  di  Soriano. 


t- 

i 

t- 

1 

■i ' 

i 

i    ; 
\ 

i 

i 
'    i 

68 


THE  NETHERLANDS. 


[book  I. 


that  contained  in  the  same  compass  as  Flanders  so 
many  pbf'.es,  large  and  small,  with  so  dense  and  so 
industrious  a  population.^"  The  Spanish  nobles  who, 
in  1529,  visited  the  province  in  the  train  of  their 
prince,  afterwards  Philip  the  Second,  when  they 
beheld  the  frequent  spires  that  relieved  the  flatness 
of  the  landscape,  exclaimed  that  "  Flanders  was  all 
one  city.'"^'' 

It  is  to  the  first  formation  of  ci^dc  comnmnities 
that  History  traces  the  rise  of  that  emulative  and 
progressive  spirit  which  has  become  the  dominant 
and  characteristic  passion  of  civilized  man.  The 
country,  without  the  city,  can  never  rise  above 
barbarism ;  its  own  life  is  that  of  a  partially  organ- 
ized being,  which  has  neither  heart  nor  brain. 
Rural  labor  is  but  a  sileuu  cooperation  with  the 
reproductive  powers  of  nature.  But  the  city  glows 
with  the  mutual  fire  of  mind  brought  into  collision 
with  mind.  There  all  is  m  mutation  and  fermen- 
tation. There  the  products  of  the  earth  are  min- 
gled, subtilized,  shaped  into  new  forms,  exchanged, 
and  redistributed.  There  ideas  announce  themselves, 
and  in  the  conflict  of  thought  new  energies  are 
developed,  new  modes  of  activity  devised.  If  the 
sensitive  spirit  of  the  poet  shrinks  before  the  aspect 


*'  Comparisons  were  frequently 
made  between  the  towns  of  the  Neth- 
erlands and  those  of  Italy  —  Bruges 
or  Antwerp  being  compared  with 
Venice,  Louvain  with  Padua,  Brus- 
sels mth  Brescia,  Ghent  with  Vero- 
na, &c.  See,  for  example,  the  Relati- 


one of  Marino  CavalH,  Belaz.Venete, 
Serie  I.  torn.  ii.  p.  201.  The  supe- 
riority of  the  Flemish  towns  in  size 
and  commercial  importance  was  con- 
ceded by  the  Italians. 

"  Guicciardini,  Belgicae  Descrip- 
tio,  p.  334. 


[book  I. 

Flanders  so 
snse  uiK^  so 
nobles  who, 
lin  of  their 
when  they 
the  flatness 
iers  was  all 

communities 
lulative  and 
:ie  dominant 
man.     The 
rise    above 
I'tially  organ- 
,    nor    brain, 
on  with    the 
[le  city  glows 
into  collision 
and  fermen- 
rth  are  min- 
I,  exchanged, 
e  themselves, 
energies   are 
ised.     If  the 
ire  the  aspect 

•alii,  Kelaz.Venete, 
.  201.  The  supe- 
mish  towns  in  size 
nportance  was  con- 
ans. 
Belgicaj  Descvip- 


CUAP.  II.] 


CrVIC  COMMUNITIES. 


69 


of  the  crowded  capital  with  its  multifarious  variety 
of  purpose  and  pursuit,  the  soul  of  the  philosopher, 
rising  above  the  billows  of  this  agitated  sea,  and 
recognizing  the  real  combination  and  unity  of  action 
that  underlie  the  apparent  diversity,  exults  in  the 
evidence  thus  afforded  of  the  powers,  the  resources, 
and  the  exalted  destiny  of  his  race.^ 

In  the  cities  founded  in  the  Middle  Ages,  Freedom 
became  the  bride  of  Industry,  and  brought  with 
her  a  dower  richer  than  that  of  queens.  Then  it 
was  that  not  only  commerce  and  mechanical  skill, 
but  science  and  art,  gained  their  first  triumphs  over 
the  barbarism  which  had  effaced  the  civilization  of 
the  ancient  world.  The  patronage  of  the  nobles, 
who  found  their  condition  magically  changed, — 
their  rude  and  sombre  dwellings  transformed  into 
palaces,  their  life  begirt  with  splendor,  their  tastes 
refined  and  gratified,  thei  •  broad  lands,  the  source 
of  their  dignity  and  power,  become  also  the  source 


''^  Heinrich  Heine  has  somewhere 
a  striking  train  of  reflections  su}ifj;ost- 
ed  by  the  ceaseless  throng  and  diii  of 
the  greatest  of  modern  capitals,  which 
he  closes  with  the  emjjhatic  phrase, 
•'  Schicken  Sie  den  Philo.sopli  nach 
London,  uher  beym  Oott  keinen 
Poet !  "  What  a  contrast  between 
Cowper,  flying  like  "  a  stricken  deer 
from  tlie  herd,"  and  proclaiming  at 
once  the  bitterness  of  his  recollec- 
tions and  tiie  soothing  pleasures  of 
liis  retirement  in  the  exclamation 
that  "  (lod  made  the  country  and 
man  made  the  town,"  and  Samuel 
Johnson,  delighting  to  gaze  upon 


that  "  finest  of  all  prospects."  the 
"  tide  of  human  life  "  that  poured  by 
Charing-Cross  !  Yet  Cowper's  Hue 
may  suggest  a  dift'crent  feeling  from 
that  which  he  intended  to  express  ; 
and  most  of  us,  j)erhaps,  are  capable 
of  sympathizing  on  occasion  M-ith 
these  o])posite  moods,  at  one  time 
rejoicing  in  the  concurrent  and  com- 
plex manifestations  of  human  energy, 
and  at  anollier  bewildered  by  the 
seeming  incohereiK-e,  or  dejiressed 
and  overwhelmed  by  the  hurry  and 
tumult  of  tlie  scene,  contrasted  with 
the  seli'-absorptiun  of  tlic  actors. 


\  I 


'  :      ,1  ;  ; 


70 


THE  NETHERLANDS. 


[book  I. 


of  incalculable  wealth,  —  or  even  that  of  a  Church 
enriched  and  lavishly  adorned  by  the  sf^me  means, 
can  be  reckoned  as  of  little  account  in  fostering 
the  new-born  spirit  of  invention  and  of  enterprise, 
compared  with  the  stimulating  intiuences  of  a  scene 
where  there  Avas  a  constant  interchange  of  thought 
between  kindred  minds,  where  all  efibrts  and  all 
pursuits  were  mutuall}'  dependent,  and  every  spark 
of  life  contributed  to  the  conniion  flame. 

The  cities  of  the  Netherlands  seemed  to  have 
been  the  first  and  spontaneous  products  of  the  soil. 
What  else  coidd  it  have  yielded  to  repay  the  labor 
and  the  capital  expended  in  reclaiming  it — in 
unlocking  the  sandy  barriers  that  refused  an  outlet 
to  the  rivers  —  in  constructing  the  huge  ramparts 
necessary  to  defend  the  newly-gained  land  IVom  the 
incessant  assaults  of  the  ocean  ?  These  were  origi- 
nally the  works  not  of  a  thinly  scattered  agricultural 
population,  but  ol'  comnmnities  of  traders'-^  seeking 


"*  "  La  faible  pojiulation  do  ccs 
campagnes,  alors  noyees,  malsaiiies, 
n'citt  jamais  fait  i\  coup  8ur  des  tra- 
vaux  rti  longs  et  si  coilteux.  II  fal- 
Idit  beaucoup  de  bras,  de  graiides 
avances,  aurtout  pouvoir  attendre. 
Ce  ne  fut  qu'fi  la  longue,  lorsquc 
rindusti'ie  cut  cutasse  It's  hornmes  ct 
I'argeiit  dans  quelques  fortes  villes, 
que  la  population  d('bordante  ])iit 
former  des  faubourgs,  dcs  bourgs, 
des  hameaux,  ou  cbanger  les  Iia- 
meaux  en  villes."  ^Vlichelct,  Hist, 
de  France,  torn.  v.  p.  ;521. 

The  pretensions  of  some  of  the 
Belgian  cities  to  a  great  antiquity 
are  neither  8u.sceptible  of  proof  nor 


supported  by  jirobabilities.  The  ear- 
liest conununal  charters  date  from 
the  eleventh  and  twelfth  centuries. 
But,  whatever  the  time  of  their  ori- 
gin, it  is  certain  that  their  rise  was 
sudden  and  rapid,  and  nowise  con- 
jiected  Mitli  the  progress  of  agricul- 
ture. The  state  of  Flanders  in  the 
fifteenth  century,  with  its  many  flour- 
ishing towns,  se])arated  from  each 
other  l)y  dreary  wastes,  and  main- 
taining comnunu'catiou  cliiefly  by  the 
rivers  and  canals,  is  strong  evidence 
on  this  point.  Michelet  has  noticed 
tlio  signilic.uue  of  the  many  names 
ending  in  (fyk  and  dam  of  towns 
now  far  distant  from  the  sea. 


CHAP.  TI.] 


MUNICIPAL  INSTrrUTIONS. 


71 


airricultiii'al 


access  to  the  sea,  facilities  for  transportation,  an 
entrepot  for  their  goods,  —  taking  possession  of  the 
polders,  the  islets,  the  marshy  capes,  and  connect- 
ing them  by  dikes  and  dams,  where  they  built 
their  warehouses  and  quays,  and  invited  the  nations 
of  the  world  to  meet  and  interchange  their  com- 
modities.'"' Here,  too,  the  fugitive  or  emancipated 
serf  was  comparatively  safe  from  the  tyranny  of 
the  feudal  lord.  No  rocky  eminences,  surmounted 
by  frowning  castles,  cast  their  shadows  on  the  rising 
towns.  Each  province  was,  in  a  political  sense,  a 
mere  aggregate  of  cities.  The  burghers  possessed 
inuuunities  and  powers  that  outweighed  those  of 
the  secular  and  ecclesiastical  nobility.  Virtually 
they  became  the  first  estate.  In  other  parts  of 
Europe  the  privileges  granted  to  the  communes 
were  either  overthrown  by  despotism  or  were  grad- 
ually absorbed  in  the  larger  political  rights  acquired 
by  the  mass  of  the  nation.  But  the  history  of  the 
Netherlands  is  a  history  of  free  nuuiicipal  institu- 
tions —  their  early  struggles,  their  complete  and 
permanent  triumph.  They  formed  the  basis  —  or, 
we  might  rather  say,  supplied  the  want — of  national 
unity  and  a  genera)  political  system,  both  in  Belgium 
and  in  Holland,  down   to  a   recent  period,  having 


'"  Without  doubt  the  Ilanseatic 
League  and  many  foreign  trading 
companies  had  a  hirge  share  in  de- 
veloping the  re8()urces  of  the  Neth- 
erlands. Even  in  their  {)alniie8t  days 
the  commerce  of  Bruges  and  of  Ant- 
werp was  altogether  in  the  hands 


of  foreigners,  the  natives  contenting 
tliemselves,  according  to  Gasparo 
Contarini,  (Rclaz.  Venete,  Serie  I. 
vol.  ii.  p.  22,)  with  the  incomes  de- 
rived from  the  rents  of  theii'  houses 
and  similar  sources. 


r 


72 


THE  NETHEilLANDS. 


[book  I. 


1 1 


flourished  under  the  imperial  sway  of  Charles  the 
Fifth,  and  resisted  the  natural  but  some wl?  at  clumsy 
efforts  of  Philip  the  Second  to  establisli  in  their 
place  a  more  simple  and  homogeneous  system. 

It  is  true  that  the  Flemish  towns  did  not,  like 
those  of  Lombardy  and  Tuscany,  rise  to  the  position 
of  independent  states.  But  when  we  reflect  on  the 
history  of  the  Italian  repul^lics,  —  presenting  an 
exact  parallel  with  that  of  the  ancient  Grecian 
states,  —  when  we  remember  that  in  them  freedom, 
though  it  put  forth  glorious  blossoms,  bore  no  sub- 
stantial and  enduring  fruit;  tliat  i^  never  acquired 
the  character  of  a  legal  and  heritaljle  possession, 
to  be  guarded  indeed  with  vigil;>nce,  but  to  be 
enjoyed  in  security ;  that  in  every  town  a  class  of 
powerful  nobles,  who  reduced  conspiracy  to  a  science, 
labored  incessantly  to  undermine  'is  free  institutions, 
which  in  the  fifteenth  centiu'y  were  finall}'  and 
conipletely  overthrown ;  we  shall  admit  that  it  was 
better  to  \>'-.  u  itizen  of  Antwerp  or  of  Ghent  than 
of  Floreuvo  or  of  Milan. 

But  although  the  Flemish  cities  were  not  torn 
by  internal  dissensions,  hy  an  internecine  war  of 
classes,  their  histor}'  exhibits  many  turbulent  and 
bloody  scenes.  The  people  of  the  Netherlands  were 
a  loyal,  but  not  a  s"ervile,  race.^'  They  were  sensitive 
to  the  least  encroachnient  of  their  sovereigns,  and 
displayed  in  their  resistance  the  same  stubborn 
resolution   as  when  contending  with    the   elements 

"  "  Ut  nulla   pens  libcn'or,"  re-    nulla   usouam   pcrtinacior  vindex." 
marks   Me}er,   "  ita  sua;   liburtuti^     liuium  Flaudricarum  Tomi  X.  p.  Id. 


lii 


[book  I. 

arles  the 
t  clumsy 

in  their 
item, 
not,  like 
;  position 
it  on  the 
iting    an 

Grecian 
freedom, 

no  sub- 
acquired 
ossession, 
it   to   be 

class  of 
%  science, 
stitntions, 
all}'  and 
at  it  was 
icnt  than 


CHAP.  II.] 


IIUNICIPAL  INSTITUTIONS. 


73 


and  achieving  triumphs  over  nature.  It  was  not, 
however,  till  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
when  the  great  question  of  freedom  of  conscience 
had  thrown  all  Europe  into  agitation,  that  they 
were  called  upon  to  defend  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciples of  their  liberties.  Their  earlier  insurrections 
were  generally  provoked  by  some  infraction  of 
their  charters,  or  some  restriction  on  their  com- 
merce, affecting  only  a  particular  locality  —  a  single 
province,  or  more  often  a  single  towri.  For,  in  the 
Middle  Ages,  freedom  was  nowhere  claimed  as  a 
natural  right  or  regarded  as  the  common  property 
of  any  nation.  Its  existence  was  an  artificial  one. 
It  was  confined  to  a  narrow  range.  It  seldom 
breathed  the  air  of  the  hills  or  the  open  fields,  but 
was  a  denizen  of  the  city,  surroimding  itself  with 
strong  Avails,  wearing  a  gold  chain  and  gown  of 
office,  and  holding  in  its  hand  the  charters  from 
which  it  derived  its  origin  and  which  contained  the 
measure  of  its  powers. 

Self-government  —  strictly  but  variously  liiuited 
—  was  the  vital  principle  of  the  conummal  char- 
ters, and  except  in  England,  can  scarc<  be  said  to 
have  been  otherwise  recognized,  or  established  on 
any  wider  basis.  The  rig]>t  of  jurisdiction  —  in  other 
words,  of  administering  justice  Ijetween  man  and 
man,  protecting  persons  and  propert  \',  and  punishing 
crime  according  to  a  scale  of  penalties  determined 
by  the  charters — was  the  one  thing  common  to 
all  incorporated  towns.  In  other  respects  —  the 
election    or    appointment    of   the    magistrates,    the 


:A:':;k. 


TOL,  I. 


10 


:'ji^- 


74 


THE  NETHERLANDS. 


[book  I. 


' 

^ 

l,  i\i 

»      ,i 

1 .,  ^' 

\ 
1 

^i 

apportionment  of  political  power  among  the  differ- 
ent classes  of  the  citizens,  the  degree,  in  short,  in 
which  the  democratic  principle  had  been  developed 
— the  widest  diversity  existed.  In  general,  however, 
it  m.ay  be  affirmed  that  the  mass  of  the  people 
took  part  directly  or  indirectly  in  the  selection  of 
the  municipal  government,  without  being  themselves 
eligible  to  office. 

Commerce  and  mechanical  industry  were  subject 
to  the  same  restraints  as  political  freedom.  No  trade 
could  be  pursued,  no  market  held,  no  commodity 
exposed  for  sale,  unless  permission  had  first  been 
granted  by  the  sovereign.  For  the  most  part  each 
town  was  connned  to  a  separate  branch  of  industry. 
One  manufactured  tapestries  or  lace,  another  iron 
or  copper  Avare.  One  was  the  _^emporium  of  the 
trade  in  wool,  another  of  that  in  wine.  The  same 
restrictive  and  exclusive  spirit  prevailed  within  the 
towns  themselves.  It  was  difficult  for  a  stranger 
to  acquire  the  rights  of  citizenship.  It  was  difficult 
for  a  citizen  to  change  his  occupation  or  mount  to 
a  higher  position.  Every  man  was  a  meml)er  of 
a  guild,  or  incorporated  trade ;  and  every  man's 
ellbrts  and  ambition  tended  to  elevate  his  guild 
rather  than  liimself  The  whole  community,  and 
every  class  of  the  community,  were  separated  and 
fenced  about  by  stringent  regidations.  Freedom 
was  there,  rights  and  imnumities  were  there,  but 
doled  out  in  fixed  propoi'tions  to  those  who  had 
established  a  claim  to  them,  who  had  piu'chased 
them,  who  had  served  and  waited  for  them.    They 


CUAP.  II.] 


COMMERCE  AND  MANUFACTURES. 


75 


were  granted  as  privileges;  they  were  guarded  as 
monopolies.  Those  who  possessed  them  were  jealous 
not  merely  of  any  curtailment  of  them,  but  of  any 
extension  of  them  to  others. 

Thus  it  was  that  the  peaceful  and  productive 
energies  of  man  had  been  concentrated  in  a  few 
localities,  which  gloAved  as  with  a  furnatie-heat,  but 
shed  no  warmth  upon  the  world  without.  No 
contrast  could  be  greater  than  between  the  pros- 
perity and  activity  of  those  regions  where  natural 
advantages  had  at  an  early  period  stimulated  the 
efforts  and  pointed  out  the  means  for  improve- 
ment, and  the  absolute  dearth  and  inertia  that 
existed  every  where  else.  The  current  of  trade 
which  set  from  the  Asiatic  shores,  meeting  with  a 
counter  current  from  the  north  of  Europe,  found 
its  chief  reservoirs  in  some  parts  of  Italy  and  in 
the  Netherlands,  to  be  thence  distributed  in  slender 
rills  over  the  rest  of  Europe.  We  read  therefore, 
with  wonder  indeed,  but  without  incredulity,  the 
accounts  which  have  come  down  to  us  from  former 
ages  of  the  number,  the  size,  the  opulence,  the 
thronged  avenues,  and  continual  bustle  of  the  Belgian 
cities;'"  the  fleets  that  daily  arrived  at  or  quitted 


'"  Some  deduction  ir  to  be  made, 
however,  for  the  different  periods  at 
which  tiie  chief  towns  attained  the 
zenith  of  their  ])rosperity.  Antwerp, 
tlie  f^reat  commercial  capital  in  the 
sixteenth  century,  was  a  place  of  lit- 
tle importance  in  the  fifteenth,  and 
owed  its  short-lived  greatness  to  the 
ruin  of  Bruges,  which  is  usually  at- 


tributed to  political  troubles,  but 
seems  to  have  had  its  primary  cause 
in  the  difficulty  found  in  keeping 
clear  the  bed  of  the  great  canal  on 
which  depended  its  communication 
with  the  sea.  (See  the  llelation  of 
Gasparo  Contarini,  152.'5.)  A  new 
and  more  capacious  canal  was  con- 
structed after  the  place  had  been 


1*!^ 


'Wf, 


I 


1:         I 


I 


I 


76 


THE  NETIIEllLANDS. 


[book  I. 


the  ports,  the  multitude  of  boats  that  descended 
the  great  rivers,  the  loaded  wains  tliat  poured 
incessantly  through  the  streets,  the  armies  of  work- 
men that  occupied  these  citadels  of  industry,  the 
wealth  and  hixurious  habits  of  the  higher  classes, 
the  comfort  diffused  among  the  lowest,  the  intelli- 
gence and  educational  advantages  connnon  to  all. 

As  a  seat  of  manufactures  the  Netherlands  occu- 
pied a  higher  relative  position  than  as  a  connnercial 
emporium.  The  trade  of  Venice  or  of  Genoa  might 
have  maintained  some  comparison  with  that  of 
Bruges  or  of  Antwerp.  But  in  the  extent,  variety, 
and  importance  of  their  manufactures,  the  Nether- 
lands were  not  merely  imrivaD'^d,  but  unapproached. 
Nothing  reached  their  shores  but  received  a  more 
perfect  form ;  what  was  coarse  a»id  almost  worthless 
became  transmuted  into  something  beautiful  and 
valuable.  With  infinitely  more  labor  than  is  now 
requisite  for  the  same  amount  of  production,  it  was 
the  chief  business  of  Flanders  to  furnish  clothing 
material  for  the  world.  Its  silken,  linen,  and  woollen 
textures  were  not  merely  carried  to  those  countries 


almost  wholly  deserted  by  the  for- 
eign trading  companies.  (Guicciar- 
(lini,  p.  349.)  Tlie  manufactures  of 
Louvain,  which 'in  i;}")()  employed 
4000  looms  and  I'jO.OOO  work-peo- 
ple, had  much  declined  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  next  century.  1  )ixmnde 
and  many  of  the  neighboring  towns 
and  villages  had  lost  their  woollen 
manufactures  before  the  middle  of 
the  sixteentii  century,  and  the  atten- 
tion of  the  inhabitants  seems  to  have 


been  turned  to  the  improvement  of 
agriculture.  (See  Meyer,  Commen- 
tarii  sive  Annales  Rerum  Flandrica- 
rum,  Antverpitp,  1561,  fol.  195  recto, 
and  Guicciardini,  p.  376,  et  al.)  Many 
facts  relating  to  tlie  growth  and  con- 
dition of  the  Belgian  cities  have  been 
collected  by  Keifl'enberg  (Commerce 
dcs  Pays-bas)  and  Dewez,  (Hist,  par- 
ticuliere  des  Provinces  Belgiques,  3 
vols.  8vo.,  Bruxelles,  1834.) 


is 


[book  I. 


*1 


CHAP.  11.] 


THE  FINE  ARTS. 


77 


descended 

m 

lat    poured 

es  of  work- 

f^ 

dustiy,  the 

*^M 

lier  classes, 

the  intelli- 

■''M 

lon  to  all. 

•lands  occu- 

connnercial 

enoa  might 

li    that    of 

~« 

n\t,  variety, 

the  Nether- 

approached. 

i^ed  a  more 

^  ^1 

st  worthless 

autiful   and 

tian  is  now 

3tion,  it  was 

>"S5 

sh   clothing 

S' 

md  woollen 

^ 

ie  countries 

m 

improvement  of 

m 

VIeyer,  Commen- 

9h 

lerum  Flaiulrica- 

:^S 

31,  fol.  195  recto, 

'f^iSM» 

376,  et  al.)  Many 

^^^B 

growth  and  con- 

IB 

\  cities  have  been 

^^B 

berg  (Commerce 

JK 

)ewez,  (Hist,  par- 

;^H 

ces  Belgiques,  3 

JH 

8,  1834.) 

InB 

with  which  Belgium  maintained  direct  commercial 
relations,  but  found  their  way  slowly,  by  obscure 
channels  and  multiplied  exchanges,  to  remote  cor- 
ners of  the  globe.  The  names  of  the  Flemish  towns, 
attached  to  their  respective  fabrics,  were  familiar 
words  in  regions  where  the  European  had  never 
set  foot,  and  among  races  of  whose  existence  he 
had  scarcely  heard.'*^ 

Flanders  was  something  more,  however,  than  the 
Lancashire  of  the  mediaeval  world.  In  a  land  where 
Nature  appeared  without  any  of  her  charms,  and, 
far  from  seeking  to  captivate  the  mind  of  man, 
sought  rather  to  excite  his  aversion  and  disgust. 
Art  adorned  his  life  and  ministered  to  his  tastes 
in  a  degree  which  had  not  yet  been  reached,  and 
which  has  scarcely  ever  been  surpassed,  in  other 
parts  of  Christendom.  In  the  first  half  of  the 
fifteenth  century  the  founders  of  the  Flemish  school 
of  painting  produced  works  which  are  still  among 
the  masterpieces  of  the  art,  and  which  Italy,  though 
it  had  already  begun  to  envy  and  to  imitate  them, 
was  yet  unable  to  rival.  Of  music,  so  far  as  it  had 
any  pretension  to  be  ranked  among  the  arts,  the 
Flemings  had  almost  a  complete  monopoly.^*  Sculp- 
ture was  not  neglected ;  and  in  richness  and  variety 
of  architecture   the   Belgian    towns  were,  as   the}' 

"  Strada,  De  Bello  Belgico,  (Lug-  even  at  Rome.      Sco  Guicciardin!, 

duni  Batavorum,  ICA'),)  p.  2.}.  p.  56,  the  Eelazioni  of  Quirini,  Ba- 

^■*  The  chapel-masters  and  other  doero,  &c.,  and  K^iffenberg's  intro- 

musical  professors  of  Belgium  were  duction  to  the  M6moircs  de  J.  Du- 

to  be  found  in  every  part  of  Europe  clercq,  (4  vols.  8vo.,  Bruxelles,  1835,) 

—  at  Cologne,  Toledo,  Milan,  and  torn.  i.  p.  106. 


78 


THE  NETHERLANDS. 


fnooK  I. 


'     I 


;i!  i 


ftill   are,  imoqiialled  by  those  of  any  other  rog'on 
north  of  the  Alps. 

The  people  of  the  Netherlands  seemed  gifted, 
indeed,  with  an  instinctive  knowledge  and  apprecia- 
tion of  the  effects  to  be  produced  by  the  mingling 
and  contrast  of  colors,  sumptiiousness  of  ornament, 
intricacy  of  arrangement,  and  the  minute  elabora- 
tion of  details.  In  this  sense  their  artisans  and 
manufacturers  were  artists,  while  art  too  often 
became  mechanical  and  prosaic.  The  peculiarities 
of  their  genius  and  taste  are  exhibited  not  only  in 
the  ])rilliant  composition,  the  lavish  hues,  the  won- 
derful facility  of  execution  and  especial  superiority 
in  the  literal  representation  of  common  objects  and 
common  life,  which  characterize  their  painters ;  or 
in  the  massive  and  lofty  towers,~with  their  exquisite 
tracery,  and  the  gables,  /arcades,  and  entablatures, 
w^ith  their  infinite  variety  of  carvings  and  i)rojectures, 
which  excite  the  admiration  but  perplex  tlie  eye 
of  the  stranger  as  he  passes  through  the  streets 
of  the  Flemish  towns ;  but  also  in  the  fineness  of 
texture  and  microscopic  patterns  of  their  laces ;  in 
their  rich  carpets ;  in  their  gorgeous  tapestries  — 
pictures  or  mosaics^  executed  by  the  needle  or  the 
loom,  some  of  them  requiring  the  patient  labor  of 


"  Soriano  thus  describes  the  Flcm-  colon,  ma  ancora  finpono  artificiosa- 

ish  tapestries :  "  Siccome  i  maestri  mcnte  1'  ombre  e  li  himi,  mostrando 

di  mosaico    hivorando   con   piccioli  i  nlievi  delle  figure  co:\  quella  misura 

sassetti  rappresentano  diverse  imma-  che  sanno  fare  i  j)ittori  piii  eccel- 

gini  di  cose,  cosi  questi  con  minutis-  lenti."     Relazioni  Venete,  Serie  I. 

simi  fili  di  lana  e  di  seta  non  sola-  vol.  iii.  p.  356. 
mente  adomano  1'  opera  di  varii 


CHAP.  II.] 


NATIONAL  CHAIIACTEIIISTICS. 


79 


years,  and  evincing  knowledge  of  design  as  well 
as  of  the  elTective  combination  of  colors;  and,  finally, 
in  the  exceeding  neatness  and  quaint  but  not  taste- 
less decoration  which  are  found  in  the  humblest  of 
their  dwellings,  and  for  which  they  were  commended 
by  foreigners  centuries  ago.''" 

It  is  rarely  that  Flemish  art  or  Flemish  literature 
addresses  itself  to  the  finest  perceptions  of  the 
intellect  or  embodies  the  highest  conceptions  of  the 
beautiful.  The  Belgian  mind  is  ingenious,  inventive, 
laborious,  often  subtle,  sometimes  warm  and  ani- 
mated, but  never  imaginative  and  never  impassioned. 
It  is  strongly  tainted  with  a  coarseness  of  sentiment, 
which  reveals  itself  in  the  habits  and  amusements 
of  the  people,  and  from  which  even  the  best  pro- 
ductions of  their  painters  and  their  poets  —  if  poets 
they  can  be  said  to  possess  —  are  seldom  altogether 
free.'^  It  even  seems  to  be  indicated  by  their  physical 


''  See  Guicciardini  and  the  Kcla- 
zioni  Veiicte,  passim.  Owen  Fel- 
tham,  in  liis  "  IJiief  Character  of  the 
Low-Countries,"  dwells  much  upon 
this  trait.  "  P'very  door  seems  stud- 
ded with  diamonds.  The  nails  and 
hinges  hold  a  constant  brightness,  as 
if  rust  there  were  not  a  quality  inci- 
dent to  iron.  .  .  .  Not  a  cohler  but 
has  his  toyes  for  ornament.  Were 
the  knacks  of  all  their  houses  set  to- 
gether, there  would  not  be  such  an- 
other Bartholomew-Fair  in  F.urope." 
Lusoria.  (London,  IfiTT.)  pp.  4S,  49. 

''  What  can  be  more  characteris- 
tic than  the  following  extract  —  ex- 
cept, indeed,  the  works  which  it  so 
admirably  describes  ? — 


"  Que  j'aime  de  Tenicrs  Ics  pointures  champ&- 

tics :  [hetres : 

Li,  ce   soiit  (les  huveurs,  accrniipis  sous  des 

Ijo  plaisir  cat  einpreiiit  sur  leur  front  bour- 

D'lin  ('616.  celui-ci,  Biir  la  tabic  indiiid, 
.'■'iiivimt  (lu  coin  de  Tonl  la  I^jjfero  fum^e 
Qu'exhale  dans  lea  airs  sa  pipe  bien-aim6e: 
Celui-li,  eavourant  pa  douco  volupt6, 
Son  verre  devant  liii,  sa  bello  A.  son  cot6, 
Kt  rentourant  d'un  bras,  sur  sa  fraiche  mal- 

tresso 
Fi.xantdesyeuxbrillansdeTinct  do  tendresse. 

Mais  qnels  sont  dans  cs  coin  ces  qiiatro  soli- 
taires? fverres: 
Co  sont  do  vieux  fermiers,  entre-clioquant  lenrs 
I.onr  repard  est  huniido :  un  heiirenx  vermilion 
Do  ses  vivos  eonleurs  enliiniine  lenr  front: 
lis  parlent;  jo  eroispresqne  entendre  lourlan- 
Le  rire  6panou     -ir     nr  large  visape,     [gage; 
Par  son  aspect        mix  excite  nia  piilt^, 
Kt  je  souris  moi-niSme  i.  leur  f^licite. 
Mon  ceil  vole,  charm*,  de  peinture  on  peinture, 
Et  sous  des  traits  divers,  c'est  toiijours  la  na- 
ture."    LESBB0US3ART,  I'oime  des  Belgei. 


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80 


THE  NETHERLANDS. 


[book 


appearance  —  the  flaming  complexion,^^  the  exuber- 
ance of  form,  the  high  animal  development,  which 
Rubens  found  so  attractive  in  his  countrywomen. 
In  their  character  are  united  some  of  the  peculiari- 
ties of  the  two  races  which,  without  being  actuall}' 
blended,  are  here  brought  so  closely  in  contact ; 
and  neither  the  phlegmatic  slowness  of  the  Teuton 
nor  the  unrestrained  self-indulgence  of  the  Gaul  is 
rendered  more  attractive  by  the  mixture. 

The  manners  and  characteristics  of  the  people  of 
the  Netherlands,  as  described  by  writers  of  a  fonner 
period,  are  for  the  most  part  such  as  belong  to  all 
communities  where  gainful  labor  quickens  and  ab- 
sorbs the  energies  of  every  class  —  where  there  is 
a  rapid  circulation  of  w^ealth,  a  free  interchange  of 
ideas,  and  frequent  intercourse  with  foreigners.  In 
their  common  employments  and  commercial  dealings, 
the  inhabitants  of  the  Flemish  towns  were  equally 
distinguished  by  their  intelligence  and  their  probit}^ 
They  were  said  to  have  originated  or  perfected  all 
the  improvements  in  the  u  jeful  arts  which  had  been 
adopted  throughout  Europe  before  the  middle  of  the 
seventeenth  century.^^  Though  plodding  and  persis- 
tent in  the  ordinary  business  of  life,  they  accepted 
new  opinions  with  a  readiness  which  was  thought 
to  savor  of  credulity.  Even  credulity,  however,  when 
thus  displayed,  is  a  mark  of  inquisitiveness,  and  of 


■mu 


^*  A  favorite  derivation  of  Flandre 
and  flamand  was  from  jlamma,  a 
flame.  "  Genus  maximam  partem 
flammeo  colore,  adeo  ut  ab  flam- 
meis  cervicibus  Flammenses  dictos 


quidam  existiment."  Meyer,  Rerum 
Flandricarum  Tomi  X.  p.  79.  See 
also  Oudegberst  and  Guicciardini. 

"'  Strada,  De  Bello  Belgico,  p. 
26. 


•i' 


CHAP.  II.] 


NATIONAL  CHARACTERISTICS. 


81 


a  desire  for  information,  though  not  of  the  ability 
for  testing  it.  Their  temper  was  neither  irritable 
nor  vindictive ;  but  benefits  were  forgotten  by 
them  with  as  much  facility  as  injuries.^"  Their  de- 
meanor towards  strangers  was  courteous  and  friendly. 
Order  and  economj'^  reigned  in  their  households ; 
but  a  hberal  hospitality  was  universally  practised, 
and  by  the  merchants  and  other  wealthy  burghers 
to  an  extent  which  was  even  censured  as  lavish 
and  extravagant. 

The  women  are  by  some  writers  enthusiastically 
commended  for  their  comeliness,  their  frank  yet 
decorous  bearing,  but  especially  for  their  intelligence 
and  skill  in  the  management  of  their  family  affairs. 
Their  love  of  cleanliness  was  a  species  of  idolatry, 
and  the  rites  were  never  disturbed  by  the  sneers 
of  the  sceptic  or  the  violence  of  the  iconoclast. 
Nowhere  else  was  the  wife  so  emphatically  the  mis- 
tress of  the  house.  Within  doors  the  husband 
made  no  pretensions  to  independence,  much  less  to 
authority.  Nor  were  the  women  always  satisfied 
with  their  exclusive  rule  over  the  home  domain. 
In  the  northern  provinces  particularly,  female  tongues 
and  fingers  were  as  busy  and  as  dexterous  in  the 
streets,  the  market-places,  and  the  shops,  as  in  pri- 
vate dwellings ;  and  the  men  not  unfrequently 
transacted  their  business  and  performed  their  allots 
ted  tasks  as  vassals  and  servants."*' 

*"  "  Beneficiorum  memoriam  cito  facile  ponunt."     Guicciardini,  p.  57. 

amittunt ;  .  .  .  quod  vitium  tamen  —  Badiicro  takes  a  much  less  chari- 

contraria  rursus  virtute  pensant,  dum  table  view. 

et  injurias  cito  obliviscuntur,  et  odia        *•  "  Emptionibus  quoque  et  ven- 
VOL.  I.  U 


82 


THE  NETHERLANDS. 


[nooK  I. 


Mi 


!       'I 


This  peculiarity  is  accounted  for  by  one  of  the 
Venetian  envoys  as  the  consequence  of  a  habit 
which  may  be  thouglit  inconsistent  with  what  have 
been  noticed  as  the  leading  traits  of  the  Flemish 
character.  He  stigmatizes  the  Netherlanders  as  a 
nation  of  sots,  and  tells  us  that  the  faculties  of  the 
men  being  habitually  muddled  by  drink,  they  were 
compelled  to  surrender  the  control  of  their  affairs 
into  the  hands  of  their  wives.^^  Although  this 
remark  is  colored  by  the  vehement  disgust  excited 
in  the  Italians  by  a  vice  from  which  they  were 
themselves  peculiarly  exempt,  it  is  certain,  from 
the  concurrent  testimony  of  native  as  well  ai? 
foreign  writers,  that  drunkenness  prevailed  among 
all  classes  of  the  population  to  an  extent  seldom 
if  ever  witnessed  in  any  other  part  of  the  world .*^ 


i       I 


ditionibus,  aliisque  virorum  propriis 
actionibus  sese  miscentes,  ac  iion 
manum  minus,  quam  linguani  iiitcr- 
ponentes  :  et  quidem  ea  dexteritate 
et  promptitudine,  ut  in  multis  terra; 
Provinciis,  HoUandia  nominatini  at- 
que  Zelandia,  viri  omnium  fere  rerum 
suarum  curam  uxoribus  srope  relin- 
quant,  qui  sane  agendi  modus,  ubi 
ad  solenmem  illam  ct  fipmineo  sexui 
naturalem  fere  domir.andi  obmur- 
murandique  cupiditatem  accedit,  du- 
bium  esse  non  potest,  quin  et  impe- 
riosas  eas  et  fastidioBas,  nonnun- 
quam  ct  insolentes  efficiat."  Guicci- 
ardini,  p.  58.  And  see  the  Relazioni 
of  Quirini  and  Badoero. 

*'  "  Le  faccende  della  mcrcanzia 
con  varj  altri  ncgozj  e  la  cura  fami- 
liare,  per  1'  imbriachezza  degli  uo- 
mini,  sono  disposte  ad  arbitrio  delle 


donne  ;  "talmenteche  si  puo  dire  con 
biasimo  loro  die  le  donne  abbino  in 
se  il  governo,  o  he  quelli  che  gover- 
nano  siauo  da  esse  comandati."  Re- 
lazioni Venete,  Ser'e  I.  vol.  iii.  p.  292. 
*^  Barclay  (Icon  Animorum,  cap. 
5)  seems,  in  distinction  from  other 
writers,  to  have  rather  admired  the 
deep  potations  of  the  Flemings,  to 
which  he  attiibutes  the  robustness 
of  their  constitutions  and  also  their 
national  prosperity.  Liquor,  he  re- 
marks, does  not  stultify  their  facul- 
ties, but  has  the  effect  of  subduing 
them  to  the  degree  of  calmness  suit- 
able for  sedentary  and  mechanical 
pursuits.  He  attriljutes  the  univer- 
sality cf  the  habit  to  a  practice  of 
weaning  infants  by  means  of  a  beer- 
bottle,  which  he  thus  describes  and 
applauds  :  "  Quippe  adhuc  ab  ubere 


m ' 


CHJIP.  II.] 


NATIOXAL  CHARACTERISTICS. 


83 


Tliey  sought  an  excuse  for  this  propensity  in  the 
(lefects  of  their  climate  and  situation  —  the  dulness 
of  the  skies,  the  humidity  of  the  atmosphere,  ren- 
dered more  unwholesome  by  constant  exhalations 
from  marshes  and  stagnant  waters,  and  the  length 
and  severity  of  their  winter.  But  there  w{is  a  gross- 
ness  of  nature  in  the  Fleming  and  the  Hollander  not 
to  be  dissipated  by  the  brightest  skies,  the  dryest 
air,  or  the  most  favorable  "  aspects  of  nature,"  and 
noted  by  all  travellers  as  a  characteristic  of  the 
race  in  the  temperate  climate  of  South  Africa  and 
under  the  burning  sun  of  Batavia  and  of  Surinam. 
Their  conduct  was  seldom  influenced  by  any  lofti- 
ness of  spirit  —  a  noble  generosity,  a  nice  sense  of 
honor,  or  a  keen  susceptibility  to  shame.  Their  life 
was  too  commonly  divided  between  a  sordid  pursuit 
of  gain  and  a  frivolous  pursuit  of  pleasure.**    There 


pendentibus,  quo  paulatim  lactis  de- 
sidcrium  minuat,  lagunculas  ad  si- 
militucUnem  uberis  effictas,  et  hor- 
deaceo  potu  plenas  tradunt  in  manu : 
turn  rudis  et  incuriosa  ffitus  subindi: 
ad  08  referens  tarde  meantem  potum, 
8ii{»endi  simib'tudine  capitur,  turn  eti- 
am  iimocentis  otii  fastidium  levat. 
Nee  utilitate  res  caret :  quippe  vali- 
da  membra  succoquc  liKtissimo  ad 
venustatem  florentia  ita  institutam 
infantiam  decorant." 

The  same  writer  —  whose  name 
must  be  allowed  to  carry  with  it  a 
weight  of  authority  on  such  points  — 
observes  that  the  Flemish  beer  ])ro- 
voked,  instead  of  quenching,  thirst ; 
the  grosser  particles  adhering  to  the 


jaws,  and  requiring  to  be  washed 
away  by  successive  draughts. 

<4  (I  jfpj  f„j-  usure  da  ogni  banda 
e  di  ogni  vil  cosa,  sono,  non  solo 
sempre  intenti,  ma  molto  avveduti  e 
sagaci.  .  .  .  Non  si  vergognano  di 
ricevere  spesso  cortesie  senza  pensa- 
re  di  ricambiarle.  .  ,  .  Son  faceti,  e 
non  si  guardano,  per  indurre  a  ride- 
re,  dal  dir  cose  disoneste  alia  jjrc- 
scnza  di  figliuole  non  maritate.  Non 
si  vede  generalmente  in  essi  tinior 
d'  iiifamia,  perche  molti,  puniti  per 
giustizia  di  tviste  opere  commesse, 
sono  amichevolmente  tenuti  in  com- 
pagnia,  e  da'  giovani  sono  tolte 
vecchie  per  moglie  a.icora  che  siano 
state  meretrici,   purchfe  diano  loro 


^^m^ 


84 


THE  NETHEHLAyDS. 


[UOOK  I. 


was  nothing  buoyant  in  their  revelry  or  ethereal 
in  their  enjoyment.  Ostentatious  profuseness  and 
prolonged  convivialities  charac;torized  the  festive 
meetings  of  the  wealthy.^*    The  kirmesse,  or  rustic 


■1    1: 


denari."  (Relazione  di  Badoero.) 
••Their  houses,"  says  the  satirical 
Feltham,  "they  keep  cleaner  than 
their  bodies,  their  bodies  than  their 
souls," 

Badoero  is  not  less  severe  in  his 
remarks  on  the  manners  of  the 
women.  He  describes  them  as,  in 
many  places,  scarcely  less  addicted 
to  intemperance  than  the  men,  as 
•'  quasi  tutte  meretrici,  per  la  smisu- 
rata  cupidita  del  denuro,"  and  as 
spending  every  vacant  hour  m  places 
of  public  and  promiscuous  resort. 
Quii'ini  says,  somewhat  less  strongly, 
•'  Le  donne  .  .  .  hanno  costumi  tutti 
aUegri ;  ed  il  tempo  che  lor  soprav- 
vanza  tutto  lo  spendono  ...  in  baUi, 
canti,  suoni,  nc  altro  fanno  che  darsi 
a  piacere."  Various  matters  con- 
nected with  domestic  discipline,  es- 
pecially the  little  restraint  unposed 
upon  young  females,  —  who  went 
abroad,  at  all  hours,  unaccompanied 
and  without  permission,  —  attracted 
the  animadversion  of  the  Italian  writ- 
ers, whose  censures  sometimes  re- 
mind us  of  tlie  pungent  strictures  on 
the  Flemish  character  hi  "  Villette  " 
and  "  The  Professor." 

Commines,  writing  at  an  earlier 
period,  tells  us  of  "  les  baignoiries 
et  aultres  festoyemens  avec  femmes, 
grans  et  desordonnez,  et  a  peu  de 
hontc.  Je  parle,"  he  adds,  "  des 
femmes  de  basse  condition."  Me- 
moires,  torn.  i.  p.  20. 

*'  "  In  conviviis,  epulis,  commes- 


sationibus  .  .  .  vix  ullum  plirrique 
habent  modum."  Meyer,  Rerum 
Flandricarum  Tomi  X.  —  •'  Les  con- 
vis  et  les  bancquctz  plus  grans  et  plus 
prodigues  que  en  nul  aiUtre  lieu,  dont 
j'aye  eu  congnoissance."  Commines. 
—  "  De  die  nonnunquam  et  noctu 
tanto  se  potu  ingurgitant,  ut  praeter 
alia,  quo;  non  raro  inde  cxistunt 
mal:i,  .  .  .  mortem  sibi  accelerent." 
Guicciardini. 

"  To  a  feast  they  come  readily," 
says  Feltham ;  "  but  being  set  once 
you  must  have  patience:  they  are 
longer  eating  meat  than  we  prepar- 
ing it.  If  it  be  to  supper,  you  con- 
clude timely,  when  you  get  away  by 
day-break.  They  drink  down  the 
Evening-star,  and  drink  up  the 
Morning-star."  Yet  "  the  truth  is," 
he  concludes, "  the  completest  drink- 
er in  Europe  is  yom*  English  Gallant. 
.  . .  Time  was,  the  Dutch  had  the 
better  of  it,  but  of  late  he  hath  lost 
it  by  prating  too  long  over  his  pot. 
.  .  .  He  drinks  as  if  he  were  short- 
winded,  and  as  it  were  eats  his  drink 
by  morsels,  rather  besieging  his 
brains  than  assaulting  them.  But 
the  Englishman  charges  home  on  the 
sudden,  swallows  it  whole,  and  like  a 
hasty  Tide,  fills  and  flows  himself,  till 
the  mad  brain  swims  and  tosses  on 
the  hasty  fume.  As  if  his  liver  were 
burning  out  his  stomach,  and  he 
striving  to  quench  it  di'owns  it.  So 
the  one  is  drunk  sooner,  and  the 
other  longer;  as  if  etriving  to  re- 


i 


'i>!i 


CHAP.  II.] 


NATIONAL  CHAKACTERISTICS. 


85 


carnivals,  and  other  holiday  celebrations  of  the  lower 
classes,  were  scenes  of  riot  and  unbounded  license.** 
If  any  portion  of  the  entertainment  was  of  a  more 
refined  or  intellectual  descriptio.i,  it  consisted  in 
the  performance  of  some  allegorical  pantomime,  pe- 
dantic in  its  meaning  and  mechanical  in  its  con- 
struction, or  in  the  recitations  of  the  "guilds  of 
rhetoric,"  the  stupefying  effects  of  which,  to  judge 
from  such  specimens  as  have  been  preserved,  can 
hardly  have  been  exceeded  by  those  of  the  most 
fiery  spirits  or  the  heaviest  beer. 


Such,  then,  were  the   Netherlands  four  centuries 
ago  —  a  land  of  plenty,  rich   in  substance  and  in 


cover  the  wager,  the  Dutchman 
would  still  be  the  pcrfacteat  Soak- 
er."   Lusoria,  p.  55. 

Deep  diinking  may  be  said  to 
have  been  a  characteristic  of  all, 
northern,  and  particularly  of  all  Teu- 
tonic, nations.  But  "  the  gros  et 
gras  Flamand"  was  conimoidy  re- 
garded as  the  type  of  coarseness  and 
sensuality.  Charles  the  Fifth,  a  true 
representative  of  his  countrymen, 
owed  something  of  his  popularity  to 
his  power  of  draining  an  imperial 
flagon  of  iced  beer  without  once 
showing  the  tip  of  liis  nose. 

*'  Meyer,  Rerum  Flandricamm 
Tomi  X.,  pp.  78, 79.  —  Guicciardini, 
pp.  58,  59.  —  Relazione  di  Badoero. 
• — Confirmatory  passages  may  be 
found  in  the  chi'onicles  of  Chastel- 
lain,  Duclercq,  and  other  writers  of 
the  fifteenth  century. 

Meyer,  whose  portraiture  of  the 
manners  of  his  countrymen  in  his 


own  age  is  not  a  flattering  one,  gives 
a  frightful  picture  of  theii-  dissolute- 
ness at  an  earlier  period.  Speaking 
apparently  of  the  year  1379,  he  \a- 
eerts  that,  in  the  space  often  months, 
the  number  of  homicides  committed 
in  the  taverns  and  brothels  of  Ghent 
amounted  to  1400.  (Commentarii 
sive  Annales,  fol.  170  recto.)  Tliis 
statement  is  certainly  incredible. 
Lenz  (Xouvelles  Arcliives  histo- 
riques)  and  Gachard  (note  to  Ba- 
rante.  Dues  de  Bourgogiie,  Brux- 
elles,  1840,  torn.  i.  p.  48)  propose  to 
correct  the  passage  by  substituting 
4,  or,  at  the  most,  14.  But  it  is  im- 
possible, without  a  total  disregard  of 
the  context,  to  attribute  the  insertion 
of  three,  or  even  two,  numerals  to  a 
blunder  of  the  copyist  or  the  printer. 
Moreover,  Flanders,  though  it  may 
have  been  the  Promised  Land  of 
meditpval  history,  waa  not  exactly 
an  Eden. 


8tt 


THE  NETHERLANDS. 


[book  I. 


>         1      I 


I      ; 


people,*''  the  workshop  and  the  mart  of  Europe, 
receiving  in  its  lap  the  commerce  of  the  world, 
supplying  all  nations  with  the  products  of  its  cun- 
ning hands,  adorned  with  the  fruits  of  a  material 
civilization  luxuriant  even  to  rankness. 

Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  nobles  formed  a  commu- 
nity apart,  less  exalted  and  less  exclusive  than  in 
other  parts  of  the  Continent,  but  still  a  distinct  and 
privileged  class,  finding  ample  compensation  for  the 
loss  of  a  barren  grandeur  in  the  rapid  increase  of 
their  wealth,  and  in  means  of  enjoyment  and  facilities 
for  display  to  which  their  brethren  in  other  countries 
were  still  comparatively  strangers.***  In  mere  splen- 
dor and  SUI7  usness  their  mode  of  living  has 
not,  perhaps,  ..  equalled  by  that  of  any  similar 
cla.  s  in  later  times,  while  it  was  destitute,  of  course, 
of  many  things  now  considered  indispensable  '  y 
those  who  have  no  pretensions  to  rank  or  wealth. 
In  the  progress  of  society  lu.^ury  precedes  comfort, 
and  the  arts  that  embellish  life  attain  their  highest 
development  while  those  that  minister  to  its  con- 
venience are  still  in  their  infancy.** 


*''  "  Multiplex  m  sobole  et  in  fiub- 
•tantia."  Glanville,  cited  by  lieif- 
fenberg,  Commerce  des  Pays-bas, 

**  Schassek  notiees  the  fact,  as  pe- 
culiar to  tliis  region,  tliat  the  "  homi- 
nes nobili  et  claro  genere  orti  non 
sclent  in  pagis,  ned  in  urbibus  habita- 
re.  Ideo  niultifaiia  obluctamenta  et 
delicias  habent."  llitter-,  Hof-,  und 
Pilger-Ileise. 

*•  There  is,  perhaps,  nearly  as 
much  truth  as  point  in  Mr.  Emer- 


son's remark,  that  "  the  Frenchman 
invented  the  ruffles,  and  the  Eng- 
lishman added  the  shirt."  The  feu- 
dal nobles,  in  the  fourteenth  and  fif- 
teenth centuries,  di-essed  in  the  cost- 
liest satins  and  velvets,  but  seem  to 
have  considered  clean  linen  as  a  lux- 
ury, and  0  night-dress  as  an  absolute 
superfluity.  (See  Ileifl'enberg,  Com- 
merce des  Pays-bas,  and  introduction 
to  Duclercq.) 
Nor  is  it  mere  luxury,  or  material 


CBAF.  II.] 


COURT  OF  PfflLIP  THE  GOOD. 


87 


The  counts  of  Flanders  had  long  been  preeminent 
among  the  great  feudatories  and  the  peers  of  France 
for  the  amplitude  of  their  resources  and  the  splendor 
of  their  court.  But  when  their  dominions  passed 
under  the  rule  of  the  aspiring  house  of  Burgundy, 
a  new  stimulus  was  given  to  the  ambition  of  the 
nobles,  new  demands  were  made  on  the  ingenuity 
of  the  people,  and  the  court  of  Philip  the  Good 
shone  with  a  magnificence  unequalled  by  that  of 
any  sovereign  in  Christendom.  When  this  prince 
was  in  attendance  on  his  liege  lord,  the  king  of 
France,  the  number  and  superb  equipments  of  his 
retinue  threw  royal  state  completely  into  the  shade. 
He  made  his  entrance  into  a  town  preceded  by 
bands  of  musicians  with  trumpets  and  other  instru- 
ments of  silver,  and  escorted  by  a  numerous  troop 
of  cavaliers  and  men-at-arms,  whose  horses  were 
caparisoned  with  cloth  of  gold  studded  with  jewelry 
and  precious  stones.  Wherever  he  fixed  his  resi- 
dence,—  at  Brussels,  at  Dijon,  or  at  Paris, —  his 
Rpartments  were  furnished  and  adorned  with  the 
costliest  productions   of  Flemish  industry  and   art. 


re  luxury,  or  material 


splendor,  that  precedes  the  minor 
conveniences  of  life.  Man  is,  after 
all,  more  noble  than  he  thinks  him- 
self: satisfying  his  physical  wants 
and  desires  —  "  making  himself  com- 
fortable "  —  is  not  the  first,  but  the 
last  object  to  which  he  devotes  his 
attention  and  the  powers  of  his  in- 
ti  'Ject.  He  did  not,  as  some  writers 
seem  to  imagine,  wait  for  riches  and 
leisure  before  he  began  to  cultivate 
his  miiid  and  aspire  to  the  realiza- 


tion of  a  lofly  ideal.  Poetry,  abstract 
philosophy,  the  highest  flights  of  the 
imagination,  the  masterpieces  of  art, 
belong  to  the  dawn,  not  to  the  noon- 
day, of  civilization.  In  the  days  of 
Pericles  and  of  Plato  there  was  not 
sufficient  mechanical  ingenuity  in 
Athens  to  invent  a  street-door  which 
should  open  inwards ;  a  preparatory 
tap  warned  the  passer-by  to  stand 
aside  while  the  door  was  opened. 


88 


couiiT  OF  rmup  the  good. 


[nooK  I. 


'Wif. 


I 


!]:  . 


His  palace  was  a  scene  of  perpetual  festivities,  of 
sumptuous  banquets  and  gorgeous  pageantries  that 
remind  us  of  the  early  barbaric  pomp  of  Eastern 
despots.  His  library  consisted  of  the  rarest  manu- 
scripts and  the  earliest  specimens  of  printed  books 
splendidly  bound  and  illuminated  —  the  nucleus  of 
a  collection  wiiich,  enriched  by  successive  additions, 
is  now  one  of  the  most  important  in  the  world. 
He  had  accumulated  treasure  to  an  almost  incred- 
ible amount,  in  gold,  silver,  and  precious  stones, 
comprising  images,  crucifixes,  reliquaries,  plate  of 
every  description,  gems  of  the  largest  size  and 
purest  water,  and  heaps  of  glittering  coin.™*  His 
household  —  afterwards  adopted  as  a  model  by  the 
Spanish  sovereigns,  the  wealthiest  and  most  power- 
ful monarchs  of  the  sixteenth  century  —  embraced 
a   multitude  of  officers   arranged  under  four  great 


'"  Leo  von  Rozmital,  who,  in  14G5 
-67,  visited  the  Jifferent  courts  of 
Western  Europe,  was  not  only  ad- 
mitted to  a  view  of  Philip's  treasure, 
but  was  requested,  by  the  duke's  or- 
der, to  accept  as  a  present  any  jew- 
els which  he  might  select.  The  no- 
ble Bohemian  declined  to  profit  by 
this  munificence,  on  the  ground  that 
he  had  undertaken  his  journey  not  for 
the  purpose  of  acquiring  riches,  but  of 
perfecting  himself  in  chivalrous  exer- 
cises. His  suite  were  overpowered  by 
the  ghttering  spectacle.  Tetzel,  the 
German  nan-ator  of  the  tour,  under- 
took to  reckon  up  the  value  of  the  dif- 
ferent articles,  but  soon  found  it  im- 
practicable,and  contents  himself  with 
declaring  that  there  was  nothing  like 
it  in  the  whole  world,  and  that  it  far 


exceeded  the  fiimous  Venetian  col- 
lectior.  (Rittcr-,  Hof-,  und  Pilger- 
Ilcise  durch  die  Alxindlande.  —  Por- 
tions of  the  Latin  narrative  of  Schas- 
sck  have  been  published  by  M.  Isi- 
door  Hye  m  the  Mcssnger  des  Sci- 
ences luBtoriques,  Gand,  1847,  and 
fbrm  the  subject  of  an  amusing  and 
chaiacteristic  article,  by  the  lute 
llichard  Ford,  in  the  Quarterly  Ite- 
view,  No.  180.) 

Several  inventories  of  the  contents 
of  the  Burgundian  t'L-asury  have 
been  preserved.  Two  have  been 
printed  by  the  count  de  Laborde, 
who  has  given  to  a  work  designed 
to  illustrate  the  state  of  the  arts  in 
the  fifteenth  century  the  appropriate 
title  of  "  Les  Dues  de  Bourgogne." 
(3  vols.  8vo.,  Paris,  184&-1852.) 


CIIAP.  II.] 


CEREMONY  AND  EllQUETTE. 


89 


(liviHions,  and  constituting  a  hierarchy  the  grades 
of  which  ascended  from  the  menial  duties  of  the 
kitchen  to  the  highest  dignities  of  the  state."' 

It   was   an   age,  indeed,  in   which    every   petty 
mymur  aped  the  regal  style  in  his  mode  of  living, 
maintained  an  establishment  composed  of  domestics 
of  many  different  grades,  was  waited  upon  by  valets 
and  pages  of  noble  birth,  observed  a  rigorous  eti- 
quette in  his  family,  and  made  his  castle,  in  short, 
a  little  court.     But  what  was  elsewhere  represented 
in  an   abridged  form,  on  special  occasions,  or  with 
insufficient    means   or    paraphernalia,   was   enacted 
daily  and  hourly,  in  all  its  fulness  and  with  all  its 
pomp,  at   the  court  of  Burgundy.     The  levee,  the 
j  procession,  the  council,  the  audience,  the  service  of 
[spices,***  the  banquet  of  state,  the  countless  usages 
I  of  the  ''^ grand  ceremonml^''  relics   of  which  are   still 
fondly  preserved  by  those  who  have  little  conception 


*'  Lists  of  the  officers  and  domes- 
tics of  the  Burf^undian  household  at 
different  j)eriods  may  be  found  in 
Labarre,  Mem.  pour  servir  ii  I'llist. 
de  France  et  de  Bourgogne.  See, 
also,  for  similar  lists  and  many  cu- 
rious particulars  relative  to  the  reg- 
ulations and  usages  of  the  court, 
Mem.  de  I'Acad.  de  Dijon,  Annees 
1858-1SJ9  ;  Miim.  et  Doc.  Ined.  de 
la  Franche-Comti!,  torn.  iii. ;  Du- 
clercq,  tom.  i.  introduction.  The 
ceremonial  and  the  duties  appropri- 
ated to  the  different  departments  — 
the  I'andrie,  ichansonncrie,  Cui- 
sine, and  fjcurie,  and  other  divisions 
subordinate  to  these  —  are  elabo- 
VOL.  I.  12 


rately  described  by  Lamarche,*tom. 
ii.  pp.  479-556.  It  has  been  sur- 
mised that  these  usages  may  origi- 
nally have  been  derived  from  the  By- 
zantine court ;  but,  in  truth,  they  had 
grown  up  naturally  out  of  the  ideas 
and  sentiments  of  feudal  society. 

**  The  practice,  common  to  all  feu- 
dal courts,  of  serving  tropical  spices, 
sweetmeats,  and  preserves,  in  the 
public  audiences  to  ambassadors  and 
other  distinguished  guests,  seems  to 
have  arisen  from  the  extreme  rarily 
and  costliness  »''  these  articles  at  a 
time  when  there  was  no  direct  inter- 
course with  the  East  and  America 
had  not  yet  been  discovered. 


!       ii 


,K, 


90 


COURT  OF  PinLIP  TIIE  GOOD. 


[book  I, 


of  their  orirriiiiil  meaning,  formed  the  routine,  of 
exintonce  with  Philip  the  Good  and  hi.s  nobles; 
and  the  chronicles  of  Olivier  de  Lamarche  and  other 
writers  who  occupied  places  in  tlie  Burgundian 
household  were  a  storehouse  of  precedents  to 
which  the  masters  of  the  ceremonies  at  the  courts 
of  Paris,  Vienna,  and  Madrid  were  accustomed  to 
resort. 

Some  particulars  less  freqi;ontly  described  have 
been  preserved  to  us  in  the  careful  record  of  a  lady 
whose  mother  had  })oen  maid  of  honor  to  the  Duchess 
Isabella,  the  third  wife  of  Philip  the  Good.°'^  The 
laws  of  precedence  and  the  regulations  in  regard  to 
the  reception  or  entertainment  of  persons  of  every 
rank  and  degiee  gave  room,  of  course,  for  many  nice- 
ties of  construction;^  and  the  distinctions  of  privilege 
by  which  the  minutest  differences  were  marked — in 
the  position  at  table,  in  the  forms  of  salutation  and 
address,  in  the  decorations  of  a  chamber,  in  the  length 
of  a;  lady's  train  and  the  manner  of  carrying  it,  in  the 


>*'  Les  Honneurs  de  la  Cour,  print- 
ed by  Saint-Palaye  in  his  Mem.  sur 
I'ancienne  Chevalerie,  torn.  iii. — The 
authoress  was  Alienor  de  Poitiers, 
vicomtesse  de  Furness,  her  mother 
'sabella  de  Souza,  a  Portuguese  lady 
of  high  descent. 

**  A  single  instance  may  be  cited. 
On  occasion  of  an  expected  visit 
from  Mdlle.  de  Penthovrc,  (a  relative 
of  the  duke  of  Ikittany,)  "  I  re- 
member," says  the  fair  Elinor,  "  that 
a  council  was  held  to  determine  what 
degree  of  honor  should  be  paid  her 


by  Madame  de  Charolais  ;  and  it 
was  ordained  that,  when  Mdlle.  de 
P.  had  entered  the  apartment,  and 
had  made  the  two  first  obeisances, 
then  Madame  de  Charolais  should 
advance  three  steps  towards  her." 

T  e  highest  authority,  in  matters 
of  this  kind,  M'as  Madame  de  Na- 
mur,  who  "  had  a  great  book  where 
she  had  written  every  thing  down," 
and  who  was  constantly  referred  to  as 
"  la  plus  grande  s(;achante  de  touts 
ctats,  que  dame  qui  fust  au  royaume 
de  France." 


Si 


CHAP.  II.] 


CEREMONY  AND  FllQUETTE. 


91 


Btmtod  courtesieH  accorded  hy  a  superior,  and  in  the 
menial  services  rendered  by  one  however  slightl;- 
inferior — present  a  picture  hardly  to  be  equalled 
of  a  stranj,'^^  artificial  state  of  society.  On  one 
occasion  we  find  a  nobleman,  a  knight  of  the  Golden 
Fleece,  wailing  bareheaded  at  table  on  his  own 
daughter,  who  liad  married  a  niiai  of  somewhat 
higher  rank  than  herself,  and  actually  falling  on 
his  knee  when  he  presented  the  basin  and  napkin 
to  her  previously  to  the  repast."** 

When  the  diflerence   of  rank  was  incontestable, 

la  great  personage  would  often  intimate  his  courteous 

[feelings  towards  one  of  a  lower  grade  by  affecting 

decline  the  marks  of  deference  to  which  he  was 

ftntitlcd ;  and  in  such  cases  a  somewhat  whimsical 

truggle  occurred   between    the    parties  —  the    one 

3solutc  to  perform   the  customary  obligations,  the 

)ther  to  dispense  with  them.     But  where  the  differ- 

fence  admitted  of  doubt,  or  an  actual  equality  existed, 

[the  contest  was  of  a  different  kind.     The  duchess 

of  Burgundy,  having  gone  to   pay  a  visit   to    the 

French  court,  on  her  Avay  to  the  queen's  apartment 

had  her  train  borne  by  one  of  her  ladies,  but,  at  the 

moment  of  entering,  hastily  gathered  up  the  rustling 

folds  with  her  own  hand,  as  etiquette  required  her 

in  the  presence  of  royalty  to  carry  it  ?ierself.     She 


**  This,  it  seems,  was  censured 
"  by  the  discreet "  as  an  act  of  folly 
on  the  part  of  the  father,  who  per- 
formed it,  "  et  encore  plus  grande  k 
sa  fille  de  le  soufFrir."  Yet  it  ap- 
pears from  the  same  work  that  John 


the  Fearless,  though  himself  a  prince 
of  the  blood,  showed  similar  respect 
to  his  daughter-in-law,  Michelle  of 
France,  Philip's  first  wife.  He  al- 
ways knelt  to  her,  and  addressed  her 
as  "  Madame." 


li'l'iX 


92 


COURT  OF  PHILIP  THE  GOOD. 


[book  I. 


'!  '  ■ 


,i    I' 


,1 


kissed  the  hands  of  the  queen  and  the  dauphin; 
but  when  she  came  to  the  duchess  of  A  ijou,  whose 
husband  stood  in  nearly  the  same  affinity  as  her 
own  to  the  majesty  of  France,  the  two  Ladies  made 
their  obeisances  at  precisely  the  same  angle,  and 
neither  of  them,  we  are  told,  was  in  danger  of 
bursting  her  aiguiUettcs  in  the  eagerness  of  her  genu- 
flexions. Isabella  then  kissed  all  the  ladies  of  the 
royal  suite,  but  only  as  many  of  the  duchess  of 
Anjou's  attendants  as  her  rival  —  on  whom  she 
kept  a  sharp  eye  all  the  while  —  saluted  of  hers.^^ 
But  the  most  singular  of  these  customs  —  those 
which  we  may  suppose  to  bear  the  least  resemblance 
to  any  existing  practices  —  related  to  the  manner 
of  evincing  grief  for  the  death  of  a  near  relative. 
Every  people  has  its  peculiar  etiquette  of  sorrow; 
and  in  feudal  Europe,  as  in  every  country  and  in 
every  age,  the  peculiar  burden  of  the  mourning  cer- 
emonies was  borne  by  the  women.  The  widow  of 
a  Hindoo  lays  herself  upon  the  burning  pile  where 
his  body  is  consumed ;  a  Christian  lady,  in  the  fif- 
teenth century,  who  had  lost  her  busbar  d,  her  father, 
a  brother,  or  other  relative,  was  expected  to  take  to 
her  bed,  and  to  remain  there  for  a  certain  number 
of  days  or  weeks,  the  length  of  the  confinement 
being  punctiliously  proportioned  to  the  rank  of  the 
parties  and  the  nearness  of  kin.    Isabella  of  Bourbon, 


*'  Ilonneurs  de  la  Cour,  (Saint- 
Pnlaye,  torn.  iii.  p.  199.)  —  The 
writer  adds  that  "  not  for  any  thing 
would  the  duchesa  of  Burgundy  have 


walked  behind  "  her  of  Anjou ;  and, 
the  latter  being  equally  resolved,  they 
took  care  not  to  be  together  when 
there  was  any  walking  to  be  done. 


,jt     .« 


CUM,  II.] 


CEREMONY  AND  ETIQUETTE. 


93 


the  first  wife  of  Charles  the  Bold,  after  having  at- 
tended the   obsequies  celebrated  in  honor  of  her 
I  father,  returned  to  her  chamber,  where  she  remained 
I  for  six  weeks,  lying  most  of  that  time  on  her  bed, 
completely  attired,  having  on  a  lofty  head-dress  and 
a  large  mantle  trimmed  with  fur.      The   bed  was 
!  covered  with  a  white  cloth,  while  the  walla  of  the 
!  apartment  were  hung  with  black,  and  black   cloth 
im  place   of  a  carpet  was  spread   upon   the   floor. 
I  These  were  the  solemnities  performed  by  a  princess.''^ 
[A  noble  lady  of  inferior  rank  kept  her  bed  for  the 
isame  length  of  time  when  she  had  been  bereaved 
)f  her  lord.     Only  in  the  case  of  her  receiving   a 
dsit  from  the  wife  of  her  sovereign  was  it  her  duty 
(;o  rise ;  but  even  then  she  did  not  leave  her  apart- 
"Itnent.     For  the  death  of  a  parent  she  remained  in 
a  recumbent  posture  only  nine  days;   the  rest  of 
the   six  weeks  she   passed   in   sitting  on  the   bed, 
which  was  first  covered  with  black  cloth.     It  may 
j\  have  been  that  this  "  mockery  of  woe,"  in  Avhich  the 
mourner  lay  in  state  as  well  as  the  corpse,  had  its 
use  in  depriving  affliction   of  some  portion  of  its 
reality.     Sorrow,   nursed   with    solemn    pomp,  was 
changed,  perhaps,  into  a  sense   of  self-importance, 
or,  at  the  worst,  mitigated  into  tedium. 

Such  were,  in  the  fifteenth  century,  some  of  the 
privileges  of  illustrious  birth — the  envied  privileges; 
for  it  seems  that  t'le  lower  grades  of  the  nobility, 
far  from   seeking   to   emancipate   themselves   from 


"  A  queen  of  France  (so  Elinor    of  the  king,  to  keep  her  bed  for  a 
heard)  was  obliged,  after  the  death    year. 


04 


COURT  OF  PHILIP  TIIE  GOOD. 


[»00K  I. 


I 


i     'ii 


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the  burdens  imposed  upon  them  by  this  cumbrou? 
ceremonial,  were  covetous  of  tbo  stricter  forms  ap- 
propriated to  their  superiors.  The  fair  chronicler 
from  whose  pages  we  have  gathered  these  details 
expresses  her  indignation  at  the  conduct  of  such 
ambitious  persons  as  indulged  in  a  more  rigid 
etiquette  than  their  station  entitled  them  to  use. 
"  If  any  one  practises  these  forms,"  she  says, "  in  a 
different  manner  from  what  I  have  here  described, 
it  will  now  be  evident  that  this  proceeds  from  vain- 
glory and  presumption;  and  such  irregular  obser- 
v.ances  are  to  be  regarded  as  null,  as  being  merely 
voluntary,  and  contrary  both  to  rule  and  reason."^ 
If  grief  itself  was  thus  turned  into  a  fantastic 
spectacle,  how  grotesque  were  the  devices  of  gayety, 
how  extravagant  the  "  pomp,  and  feast,  and  revelry " 
of  the  Burgundian  court !  Thie  example  of  the  sove- 
reign^" was  closely  imitated  by  the  nobles,  who  vied 


'*  "  Ce  sont  les  honneurs  ordon- 
nez,  prcservez,  et  gardez  en  touts 
royaumes  et  pays  ou  Ton  doibt  user 
de  raison. .  .  .  Quiconque  en  use  au- 
trement  que  diet  est,  il  doibt  estre 
notoire  h  chacun  que  cela  se  fait  par 
gloire  et  prcsomption,  et  doibt  estre 
rdpute  pour  nul,  h.  cause  que  ce  sont 
choses  volontaires,  deroglees,  et  hors 
de  raison."    Idem,  pp.  26.'3,  2{)6. 

Sbe  admits,  however,  that  there 
were  also  people  who,  at  the  time  of 
her  writing,  (about  1490,)  were  in- 
clined to  rebel  against  this  code  of 
reason,  contending  that  such  things 
might  have  suited  a  former  time, 
but  that  now  "  it  was  quite  another 
Arorld."     "  But  such  allegations," 


she  remarks,  "  are  not  sufficient  to 
break  down  ancient  and  ordained 


usages." 

'*  The  Bohemian   tourists 


have 


much  to  say  in  praise  of  I'liiliij's 
hospitality.  Tetzel  says  he  gave 
them  "  das  aller  kostlichst  mal  das 
ich  all  mein  tag  ie  gessen  babe.  .  . . 
Es  war  do  ein  kostiiche  krcdenz  auf- 
gerichtet  und  unmassen  nnder  kost- 
licb.  gczin  und  wesen  uberflussig,  uii- 
gleublich  davon  zu  'schreiben.  Und 
gab  zwey  und  dreissig  csscn,  almal 
truog  man  acht  essen  mit  einander 
von  gar  kostlichen  speis,  und  von 
alien  getrank,  das  man  mag  erdenk- 
en,  des  war  genug  do."  (Hitter-, 
Hof-,  und  Pilger-Iteiser.)  Somewhat 


CHAP.  II.] 


THE  FEAST  OF  THE  PHEASANT. 


95 


with  each  other  in  a  succession  o^  fetes  distinguished 
by  a  sumptuous  magnificence  and  an  unbounded 
conviviality.  It  was  the  custom,  on  an  occasion  of 
tliis  kind,  for  the  host  to  present  a  chaplet  to  one 
of  the  company,  wliose  turn  it  became  to  furnish 
the  next  entertainment.''*  Among  the  banquets 
given  by  Philip  the  Good  one  obtained  a  peculiar 
celebrity  from  its  connection  with  a  project  which 
continued  for  more  than  a  century  to  be  the  dream 
of  princes  and  the  aspiration  of  Christendom.  It 
took  place  at  Lille,  in  1454,  and  was  intended  to 
give  eclat  to  the  proclamation  of  a  crusade  for  the 
recovery  of  Constantinople,  the  memorable  siege  of 
which  had  terminated  the  year  before  in  its  capture- 
[by  the  Turks.  An  immense  hall, hung  with  tapestry 
[representing  the  labors  of  Hercules,  was  surrounded 
\hy  five  tiers  of  galleries  in  the  form  of  an  amphi- 
theatre. These  were  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
spectators,  who  were  required  to  be  masked  —  a 
device  which  would  perhaps  be  approved  by  the 
manager  of  a  modern  theatre  as  a  means  of  fixing 


more  than  enough,  since  Schassek, 
unfortunately,  was  so  dazzled  and 
bewildered  by  the  fascinations  of  the 
duchess  and  other  ladies,  that  he 
drank  too  much  wine,  and  could 
with  difficulty  find  his  way  back  to 
his  lodgings  —  "  nam  potus  eram." 
Tetzel,  we  may  hope,  was  equally 
drunk  when  he  construed  the  affa- 
bility of  these  high-born  dames  as 
a  proof  that,  "  wenn  mein  hcrr  [Leo 
von  Rozmital]  wolt,  so  mocht  er  die 
miichtigsten  frawen  laden  allein :  die 


vergunt   man  jm,   und  waren  mit 
meinem  hernn  frolich." 

"^  Chronique  de  Mathieu  de  Cous- 
sy,  (ed.  Buchon,)  torn.  ii.  p.  87,  88, 
—  Lamarche,  torn.  ii.  p.  163.  —  Pre- 
viously to  the  entertainment  about 
to  be  noticed  in  the  text,  the  chaplet 
had  been  presented  to  Philip,  at  the 
house  of  the  count  d'Estampes,  by 
a  child  of  twelve  years,  Mho  recited 
some  verses,  intimating  i\v\i  it  was 
sent  by  a  lady  who  bore  the  title  of 
the  "  Princess  of  Joy." 


1 

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1  i 

-il 

si  M 

96 


COURT  OF  PHILIP  THE  GOOD. 


[book  I. 


the  attention  of  the  audience  on  the  busine:^s  of  the 
stage.  The  tables,  three  in  number,  were  covered 
with  ponderous  decorations  that  muat  have  tasked 
the  ingenuity  not  only  of  cooks  and  confectioners, 
but  of  artificers  in  every  department  of  mechanics. 
Here  a  fortress,  surrounded  by  walls  and  ditches, 
and  flanked  by  towers,  was  attacked  by  a  besieging 
army  J  there  a  lake  was  to  be  seen,  with  castles 
and  hamlets  on  its  borders,  and  boats  sailing  on  its 
surface.  On  one  table  was  a  church,  with  its  lofty 
steeple  and  stained  windows,  and  within  it  an  organ 
and  ti  choir  of  singers ;  on  another,  a  mammoth  pastj-, 
in  which  a  band  of  twenty-eight  musicians  were 
•  concealed.  There  were,  besides,  a  forest,  filled  with 
wild  animals  of  every  species ;  a  prairie  enamelled 
with  flowers,  and  surrounded  by  huge  rocks  formed 
of  sapphires  and  rubies ;  a  grave  in  which  birds  flew 
from  the  pursuit  of  the  hunter,  and  were  caught 
by  sportive  ladies  and  their  gallant  cavaliers;  i\ 
carrack,  or  galley,  larger  than  the  ordinary  size, 
complei  ely  rigged,  an-^  manned  by  sailors,  who  took 
in  the  cargo,  pulled  at  the  ropes,  and  went  through 
all  the  manoeuvres  of  setting  sail ;  a  mountain,  with 
its  summit  covered  with  ice ;  a  desert  where  tigers 
and  serpents  were  engaged  in  furious  combat ;  and 
statues  of  naked  boys,  which  served  as  fountains 
and  scattered  rose-water  around  in  streams.  The 
billet  —  one  of  those  elaborate  pieces  of  architec- 
tural upholstery  of  which  specimens  still  exist  to 
attest  the  mechanical  skill  and  the  luxurious  habits 
of  the   Middle  Ages  —  was   loaded  with  gold  and 


,  CHAP.  II.] 


THE  FEAST  OF  THE  PHEASANT. 


97 


[silver  vessels  of  every  form  and  size.  On  either 
side  of  it  was  a  column,  one  having  attached  to  it 
a  female  figure,  from  whose  right  breast  flowed  a 
stream  of  ippocras;  while  to  the  other  a  lion  — 
mot,  as  some  writers  have  supposed,  an  automatic 
[figure  or  mere  sculptured  representation,  but  a  live 
pnative  of  the  African  deserts  —  was  fastened  with 
in  iron  chain.®* 

On  a  raised  platform  at  the  head  of  the  first 
table  sat  the  duke.  He  was  arrayed  with  his  accus- 
tomed splendor  —  his  dress  of  black  velvet*^  serving 
a  dark  ground  that  heightened  the  brilli"'^  2y  of 
le  precious  stones,  valued  at  a  million  of  gold 
rowns,  with  which  it  was  profusely  decked.  Among 
le  guests  were  a  numerous  body  of  knights  who 
id  passed  the  morning  in  the  tilting-field,  and  fair 
lemish  dames  whose  flaunting  beauty  had  inspired 
these  martial  sports.  Each  course  was  composed 
of  forty-four  dishes,  which  were  placed  on  chariots 
painted  in  gold  and  azure,  and  were  moved  along 
-the  tables  by  concealed  machinery.  As  soon  as  the 
company  was  seated  the  bells  in  the  church  began 


«'  "  Un  fort  beau  lion  tout  vif," 
^)o  Coussy,  torn.  ii.  p.  99. 

A  collection  of  veritable  lions  is 
nentioned  among  the  wonders  seen 
\ty  the  Bohemian  tourists  at  the  Bur- 

indian  court. 

*'  De  Coussy  describes  him  as 

ressed,  in  the  early  part  of  the  day, 

'  de  velours  de  couleur  sur  velours 

loir."    Duclercq  also  says,  "  Ledit 

luc,  ledit  jour,  qui  avoit  passd  seize 

VOL.  I.  13 


ans  devant,  ne  avoit  donnd  Uvrde  de 
robbe  synon  de  noir,  feit  faire  a  ses 
gens  robbes  de  couleurs,  comme 
paravant  lesdits  seize  ans  il  avoit  ac- 
coustumc,  et  lui  mesme  porta  cou- 
leur." Pi'obably  he  wore,  as  was 
common,  a  mantle  of  crimson  or  < 
some  other  bright  color.  In  the 
miniatures  Philip  is  almost  always 
represented  "  en  noir." 


f''p^'\... 


\i      ii 


98 


COURT  OF  PHILIP  THE  GOOD. 


[book  I. 


■      i 


\    M 


i  i 


1  i^ 


to  chime,  and  three  little  choristers,  issuing  from  the 
edifice,  sang  with  melodious  and  well-attuned  voices 
"  a  very  sweet  chanson."  The  musicians  in  the  pasty 
also  performed  on  various  instruments ;  the  swell  of 
the  organ  mingled  with  the  dulcet  tones  of  the  flutes 
and  horns ;  and,  to  complete  the  harmony,  two  trum- 
peters, seated  back  to  back  upon  a  horse  fantastically 
caparisoned  and  made  to  move  backwards  through 
the  hall,  blew  lustily  from  time  to  time. 

In  the  intervals  of  the  repast  a  variety  of  uncouth 
monsters  were  introduced,  such  as  still  move  the 
wonderment  of  children  at  a  Christmas  pantomime. 
Now  it  was  a  wild  boar,  with  a  griffin  mounted  on 
its  back ;  anon  a  flying  dragon  flapped  his  enor- 
mous wings.  To  these  exhibitions  —  cniremets^^,  as 
they  Avere  called  —  succeeded  a  more  regular  dra- 
matic entertainment.  A  curtain  of  green  silk,  at 
one  end  of  the  apartment,  drew  up,  revealing  a 
stage  on  which  the  story  of  Jason  and  the  Golden 
Fleece  Avas  performed.  At  last  came  the  grand 
scene,  to  which  all  the  rest  had  been  merely  pre- 
liminary, and  which  was  to  announce  to  the  audience 
the  purpose  of  the  festival.  A  giant  appeared,  lead- 
ing an  elephant.  On  its  back  was  a  tower,  where 
sat  a  personage  in  female  attire,  but  no  other,  in 
fact,  than  the  worthy  chronicler  Olivier  de  Lamarche, 

0/     *'  This  word  seems  originally  to  ployed  also  to  designate  the  omti- 

have  been  confined  to  the  sense  in  ments  and    representations   placed 

which  it  is  here  used  —  that  of  shows  upon  the  table,  —  such  objects  as 

or  performances  exhibited  between  were  to  be  looked  at,  not  oaten,  — 

thr  courses.    At  the  period  of  our  never,  apparently,  in  the  inodirii 

..anativc,  however,  we  find  it  em-  sense,  of  "  side-dishes." 


-m 


CHAP.  II.] 


THE  FEAST  OF  THE  PHEASANT. 


99 


representing  Holy  Mother  Church.  After  the  reci- 
tation of  a  long  complaint  in  verse,  Setting  forth 
the  perils  to  which  she  was  exposed  from  the  attacks 
of  the  Infidel,  this  ancient  lady  appealed  to  the 
noble  cavaliers  who  were  present  to  arm  themselves 
in  her  defence.  Hereupon,  with  great  ceremony,  a 
pheasant,"*  having  around  its  neck  a  collar  of  gold 
richly  garnished  with  pearls  and  other  gems,  was 
brought  into  the  hall  by  a  king-at-arms ;  and  the 
duke  caused  a  paper  to  be  read  aloud,  in  which 
he  made  a  vow  —  to  God  first,  then  to  the  Holy 
Virgin,  and  lastly  to  the  ladies  and  to  the  pheas- 
ant —  that,  except  in  the  case  of  certain  contingen- 
cies, —  not  altogether  unlikely  to  occur,  —  he  would 
himself  take  part  in  an  enterprise  against  the 
Moslems,  and  would  seizn  the  earliest  opportunity 
i  of  en^  isring  the  Sultan  in  single  combat.  As  knight 
after  knight  came  forvvard  to  take  the  oath,  a  sort 
of  delirious  excitement  —  in  which  the  wine  that 
had  flowed  so  lavishly,  the  gay  shows,  and  tlie  chann 
of  voluptuous  glances  had  a  part  —  took  possession 
of  the  assembly.  Tlie  most  whimsical  vows  w^ere 
registered  —  one  impudent  cavalier  swearing  that, 
if  he  did  not  obtai  i  the  favors  of  his  mistress  before 
he  set  out  on  the  expedition,  he  would  marry,  on 


3  to  designate  the  omn- 
l  representations  placed 
table,  — such  objects  as 

looked  at,  not  oaten,  — 
)arcntly,  in  the  modirn 

side-dishes." 


^*  The  pheasant,  the  heron,  the 
peacock,  and  the  swan  were  held  in 
peculiar  estimation,  both  on  account 
of  their  beauty  and  as  delicacies  for 
the  table.  The  library  of  the  dukes 
of  Burgundy  contauis  several  manu- 
scripts entitled  "  Voeux  du  Hairon," 


"  Voeux  du  Paon,"  &c.  In  the  ro- 
mances and  fabliaux  c*"  the  Middle 
Ages  the  peacock  is  spoken  of  as 
the  "noble  oiseau,"  the  "viandedes 
preux,"  the  "  nourriture  des  amants." 
Keiffenberg,  introduction  to  IJu- 
clercq. 


-11 


B)  -     'V  tNn 


;i;  :FI. 


■'»;; 


100 


COURT  OF  PHILIP  TlIE  GOOD. 


[book  I. 


his  return,  the  first  woman  he  should  meet  with 
who  had  twenty  thousand  crowns.  Then  the  hall 
was  cleared ;  and  these  incongruous  pageants,  in 
which  farcical  thaumaturgy  was  mixed  up  with 
courtly  and  chivalric  ceremonies,  ended  with  the 
more  graceful  and  pleasing  exhibitions  of  the 
dance.*^ 

One  of  the  narrators  of  this  scene  confesses  that 
he  could  not  refrain  from  censuring  in  his  own 
mind  the  enormous  expense  which  it  entailed,  and 
the  ridicule  which  such  mummeries  seemed  to  cast 
upon  a  serious  undertaking.  But  when  he  made 
this  remark  to  a  person  high  in  Philip's  confidence, 
the  latter  answered,  "  Be  assured,  my  friend,  and  re- 
ceive it  on  my  faith  as  a  knight,  that  these  banquets 
and  festivities  are  only  meant  as  an  earnest  to  the 
world  of  our  noble  master's  real"^intention  to  play 
that  part  which  becomes  him  in  the  defence  of 
Christendom."*'  The  sentiment  thus  earnestly  ex- 
pressed puts  in  its  true  light  the  fondness  for 
ceremony  and  magnificent  display  so  conspicuous 
in  the  Burgundian  dukes.     Philip  the  Good  was  not 


' 


ir-si 


**  The  most  elaborate  —  and  most 
wearisome  —  descriptions  of  the 
"  Fete  du  Faisan  "  are  those  given 
by  De  Coussy  (tom.  ii.  pp.  85-174) 
and  Olivier  de  Lamarche,  (tom.  ii. 
pp.  167-208.)  Tlie  different  vows  are 
recorded  by  both  at  full  length.  Oli- 
vier, who,  in  1447,  had  been  promot- 
ed from  the  situation  of  a  page  to 
that  of"  dcuyer  pannetier,"  or  squire 
of  the  pantr}',  had,  as  we  have  seen, 
a  conspicuous  part  assigned  him  u 


the  ceremony;  and  he  is  supposed 
also  to  have  written  the  verses  and 
superintended  some  portions  of  the 
pageant.  More  concise  accounts 
may  be  found  in  Duclercq,  tom.  ii. 
pp.  195-199,  and  in  a  letter  of 
Jehan  de  Molesme,  printed  in  the 
Col.  de  Doc.  Inedits  sur  I'Hist.  de 
France,  M<Slanges,  tom.  iv.  p.  457, 
et  seq. 
^  De  Coussy,  tom.  ii.  p.  175. 


CHAP.  11.] 


CHABACTER  CJF  PHILIP. 


101 


a  man  of  a  merely  frivolous  character,  content 
with  the  semblance  of  power  or  with  its  outward 
trappings  and  adornments.  He  was  a  proud,  as- 
piring prince,  an  ardent  and  a  successful  politician. 
But  liis  aspirations  and  his  policy  assumed  a  form 
that  belonged  rather  to  an  earlier  age  than  to  that 
in  which  he  lived,  ^^e  had  no  conception  of  a 
government  which  confined  its  aims  within  the 
limits  of  utility,  which  denuded  its  acts  as  far  as 
possible  of  ostentation,  and  which  labored  to  effect 
its  purposes  by  subtle  and  tortuous  methods.  He 
knew  nothing  of  statecraft  as  practised  by  the  Ital- 
ians and  by  Louis  the  Eleventh.  Parade  and  flourish 
were  with  him  a  necessary  part  of  the  exercise 
of  sovereignty;  to  fill  a  conspicuous  place  in  the 
eyes  of  Christendom  was  a  sufficient  object  for 
his  ambition;  and  he  would  as  readily  have  led 
his  vassals  in  a  crusade  for  the  recovery  of  the 
Holy  Land  as  to  the  conquest  of  a  neighboring 
province.*'     The    eulogy   pronounced   on    him    by 


*'  Although  no  crusade  was  act- 
ually undertaken,  the  sincerity  of 
Philip's  intentions  and  his  zeal  in 
what  was  regarded  as  the  common 
cause  of  Christendom  are  attested 
by  various  facts.  By  a  series  of  or- 
dinances, pron:uIgated  in  1454,  he 
effected  a  large  reduction  in  the  ex- 
penses of  his  household,  with  the 
view  of  providing  funds  for  this  en- 
terprise. In  the  same  year  he  made 
a  tour  through  several  of  the  German 
states  on  his  way  to  Ratisbon,  to 
take  part  in  a  diet  which  had  been 
convoked  for  the  purpose  of  arran- 


ging a  general  plan  of  operations. 
But  neither  the  !'•  iperor  Frederick 
nor  any  of  the  electoral  princes,  with 
the  exception  of  the  margrave  of 
Brandenburg,  had  cared  to  be  pres- 
ent, and  the  project  consequently  fell 
to  the  ground.  Notwithstanding 
this  discouragement,  the  duke  of 
Burgimdy  subsequently  fitted  out  an 
armament,  which  he  placed  under 
the  command  of  his  natural  son  An- 
tony, to  act  in  the  Mediterranean 
and  on  the  coast  of  Asia  in  conjunc- 
tion with  the  fleets  of  other  powers. 
Owing  to  the  lukewarmness  of  the 


i    II! 


102 


COURT  OF  PHIUP  THE  GOOD. 


[book  I. 


Chastellain  is  doubtles'  ,. od  hy  the  noble  hue 
of  sentiment  pecuHur  t  iuc  writer's  mind,  reflecting 
rather  an  ideal  than  an  actual  character ;  but  it  is 
at  least  that  ideal  which  the  real  Philip  would  have 
been  best  pleased  at  being  thought  to  resemble. 
lie  is  there  represented  as  the* "  pearl  of  valiant 
men,"  the  star  of  chivalry,  and  the  champion  of 
the  Church;  as  affable  to  all,  whether  of  high  or 
low  estate,  and  especially  to  women,  whom,  indeed, 
he  was  apt  to  regard  with  glunces  all  too  amiable, 
"  quickly  surrendering  his  heart  to  the  wishes  of 
his  eyes."  He  looked  in  the  faces  of  those  to 
whom  he  spoke,  used  no  unseemly  language,  and 
sealed  his  promise  with  his  word  alone.  He  was 
leal  and  dcbonnair,  of  great  largess,  stern  and  defiant 
to  the  presumptuous,  but  clement  to  such  as  sued  for 
his  forgiveness.  Cold  and  silver  he  held  as  dross; 
but  he  gave  his  heart  to  jewels  and  precious  stuffs. 
He  was  rich  in  vestments,  loved  feasting  and  shows, 
but  was  a  master  of  all  knightly  exercises,  a  skilful 
rider,  fond  of  the  chase  and  bold  in  the  tourney. 
His  port  and  semblance  were  those  of  one  born  to 
high  dignity,  and  seemed  to  announce  even  to  the 
stranger,  "I  am  a  prince."** 


&',.n 


Venetians,  this  scheme  also  was  ren- 
dered abortive,  and  the  Lurguudiuu 
forces  were  compelled  to  return  with- 
out having  liad  the  opportunity  of 
exhibiting  their  prowess  in  an  en- 
counter with  the  Moslems. 

"*  "  Son  semblant  seulement  le 
jugeuit  cmpereur ;  ct  valoit  de  porter 
couronnc,  seulement  sur  Ics  gruccs 


de  nature ;  se  monstroit  en  terre  en- 
tre  Ics  princes  commc  une  estoile  au 
ciel ;  et  pailoit  son  viaire,  cc  sem- 
bloit,  disant,  '  Je  suis  prince.' "  De- 
claration de  tons  les  hauts  et  glo- 
rieuses  Adventures  du  Duo  Philii)pe 
de  Bourgogne,  Chastellain,  ffiuvres. 
(ed.  Buchon,  1837,)  p.  .005. 
In  person,  according  to  the  same 


liiil 


CBiir.  II.] 


SUNSET  OF  CinVALRY. 


103 


It  is  as  the  stronghold  of  feudalism,  where  the 
manners  and  ideas  that  were  elsewhere  in  a  state 
of  rapid  decay  still  maintained  their  vigor,  that  we 
must  regard   the  Burgundian   court.      The   setting 
sun  of  chivalry  shone  upon  it  with  full  splendor. 
It  was  the  resort  of  all  who  sought  to  acquire  los. 
and  to  assert  the  beauty  and  virtue  of  their  mis- 
tresses by  deeds  of  high  emprise.     Hardly  a  week 
went  by  in  which  some  one  or  other  of  the  Flemish 
towns  did  not  witness  the  proclamation  of  a  tour- 
nament  or  joust.      As    the    glittering    throng    of 
cavaliers  passed  along  the  streets,  the  windows  and 
balconies  were  crowded  with   fair  dames,  nol)le  as 
well  as  simple,  who  waved  their  kerchiefs,  and  prayed 
that  their  favored  knights  might  preserve  :  \eir  honor 
and  renown  untarnished.    The  lists  were  niled  with 
spectators  of  every  rank.     When  the  heralds  and 
pursuivants  cried,  ^'^  Laches,  lachcz!"  the  combatants 
issued  from  their  pavilions,  and  mounted  their  high- 
mettled  and  richly  caparisoned  steeds,  which  pranced 
and   caracolled   in  conscious   pride.     The   trumpets 
sounded ;  the  knights  galloped  through  the  arena : 
the  ashen  spear  was  shivered  against  the  tempered 
steel ;  the  shouts  of  the  spectators  proclaimed  their 
interest   in  the   spectacle ;   the   ladies   threw   their 
gloves  and  adornments  into  the  lists :  a  knight  was 

authority,  Philip  was  of  the  middle  nose  long  and  straight,  complexion 

height  I  his  limbs  firmly  set  and  fine-  somewhat  dark,  eyes  full  of  expres- 

ly  proportioned;  his  bones  large;  sion,  hair  "between  blond  and  black," 

his  veins    swelling    and  "  full    of  eyebrows  thick,  and  "  curling  up  like 

blood;"  his  face  long,  "like  those  horns  "  in  moments  of  passion, 
of  his  ancestors,"  lips  of  a  deep  red, 


101 


COURT  OF  PUIIJP  TUB  GOOD. 


[book  I. 


tt 


unhorsed,  and  liis  opponent  sprang  to  the  ground 
and  raised  his  battle-axe  or  sword ;  but  a  cry  of 
pity  was  heard  from  every  side ;  the  duke  throw 
down  his  baton,  and  the  combat  was  at  an  end.^ 

Thus  all  was  gay,  voluptuous,  purely  mimic  and 
hamdcHs  in  these  encounters ;  and  yet  with  what 
solemnity,  what  an  entire  belief  in  the  importance, 
the.  dignity,  and  the  reality  of  the  scene,  did  the 
actors  perform  their  parts !  In  no  age  or  country 
did  the  fervent  and  devotional  spirit  of  chivalry 
glow  with  purer  lustre  in  a  gallant  heart  than  in 
that  of  Jacques  de  Lalain,  called  far  excellmce  "  the 
good  knight,"  and  the  brightest  ornament  of  Philip's 
court.  Trained  in  virtue  and  piety  from  his  earliest 
'ears,  and  in  that  stately  courtesy  which  was  con- 
sidered as  the  crowning  grace  of  the  accomplished 
nobleman,  he  was  inspired,  while  still  a  youth,  with 
the  single  desire  of  maintaining  by  his  exploits 
that  reputation  for  valor  and  spotless  honor  which 
had  been  bequeathed  to  him  with  an  illustrious 
name.  He  hears,  at  Antwerp,  that  a  Sicilian  knight 
has  been  seen  passing  from  his  hostelry  to  the 
church,  with  an  iron  fetter  on  his  left  leg,  attached 
to  a  chain  of  gold,  intimating  that  its  wearer  has 
bound  himself  to  perform  a  certain  number  of  ex- 
ploits in  honor  of  the  mistress  of  his  heart.  At 
this  news  the  soul  of  Jacques  de  Lalain  is  filled 
with  joy;  "humbly  and  devoutly  he  offers  thanks 

*'  See  the  chronicles  of  De  Cous-    Her  Messire  Jacques  de  Lalain,  (ed. 
sy,  Duclercq,  Lamarche,  and  espe-    Buchon,)  pa8sim« 
daily  the  Chronique  du  Bon  Cheva- 


i'  li,-  ii 


iijt 


CHAP.  11-] 


SUNSET  OF  CfflVALRY. 


105 


to  our  Lord  and  to  his  Virgin  Mother,"  and  "on 
bended  knees  and  with  joined  hands"  beseeches 
them  that  they  will  grant  him  aid  and  counsel 
in  tliis  J  (Tuir;  for  it  seems  to  him  that  the  requests 
and  petitions  which  he  has  daily  put  up  are  now 
about  to  be  granted.  He  summons  the  king-at-anns 
of  the  Golden  Fleece,  and  opens  to  hhn  his  intention 
to  "  deliver  "  this  noble  cavalier,  who  had  come  from 
afar  to  seek  the  means  of  accomplishing  his  vow. 
With  many  ceremonies  and  courtly  rites  the  "  chap- 
ters," or  prehminaries  of  the  combat,  are  arranged. 
The  day  and  place  are  appointed  by  the  Juke. 
Jacques  de  Lalain  arrives  at  the  spot  accompanied 
by  a  brilliant  cavalcade  of  five  hundred  knights  and 
noble  youths.  "  Certes,"  says  the  chronicler,  '*  they 
ran  many  beautiful  courses,  and  neither  of  them 
failed  in  a  single  instance  of  his  aim;  although  so 
large  and  heavy  were  their  lances,  that  often  they 
were  not  broken  in  the  shock.  Notwithstanding 
which  they  ceased  not  to  run  and  tilt  against  each 
other  until  night,  when  the  duke  requested  them 
to  be  contented  with  the  good  and  valiant  manner 
in  which  they  had  performed  their  devoir." 

Then  our  gallant  Jacques  sets  out  upon  a  pil- 
grimage of  honor,  hangs  up  his  shield  at  the 
"Fountain  of  Tears"  near  Chalons,  on  the  high  road 
from  Burgundy  to  Italy,  and  holds  the  pass  against 
all  comers.  Afterwards  he  sends  his  herald  before 
him  to  the  court  of  France  to  announce  his  emprise, 
and  incite  some  kindred  spirit  to  condescend  to  his 
request — without  success,  however;  the  nobles  there 


VOL.1. 


14 


K 


106 


COURT  OF  PHILIP  THE  GOOD. 


[book  I. 


'\  I     r 


.1    ' 


t4;i  Si; 


.,;:! 


having  had  lately  quite  enough  of  real  fighting  to 
keep  them  in  practice,  and  Charles  the  Seventh 
rather  discountenancing  these  displays.  He  con- 
tinues his  journey  into  Spain,  where  he  is  received 
with  more  honor  than  is  to  be  paid  in  a  succeed- 
ing century  to  the  Knight  of  La  Mancha,  of  whom 
he  seems  the  very  prototype ;  crosses  the  sea,  and 
travels  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  England 
without  finding  a  single  opportunity  of  exhibiting 
his  prowess  —  only  a  Welsh  knight  hurrying  after 
him,  when  he  has  taken  ship,  to  arrange  the  terms 
of  a  meeting  in  Flanders ;  and,  returning  unscathed 
to  his  native  soil,  receives,  at  the  early  age  of  thirty- 
two,  his  final  "deliverance,"  not  from  the  lance  of 
a  noble  adversary,  but  in  rude  combat  with  the 
rebellious  citizens  of  Ghent."**     - 

Nor  was  the  court  of  Burgundy  wanting  in  a  fit 
historiographer  of  lofty  characters  and  gallant  deeds. 
Chastellain  —  last  and  greatest  of  chivalric  chroni- 


'"'  Fantastic  as  the  career  of  this 
hero  may  appear  to  the  modem  read- 
er, it  is  impossible  to  peruse  the  bi- 
ography, prolix  though  it  be,  written 
by  Saint-Remy,  Toison  king-at-arms, 
without  being  to  some  degree  infect- 
ed with  the  enthusiastic  admiration 
with  which  "  the  good  knight "  was 
regarded  by  his  contemporaries. 
When  his  death  was  announced  to 
the  army,  clarions  and  trumpets 
were  hushed  ;  at  the  distance  of  a 
bow-shot  not  a  souiul  was  audible  ; 
and  many  ftices,  that  of  the  sove- 
reign among  others,  were  bathed  in 
tears.      "  Great  pity  was    it,"  ex- 


claims Saint-Remy,  "  thn.t  he  reigned 
no  longer  in  the  world  ;  for  the  like 
of  him  was  neither  known  nor  could 
be  found  in  any  land  —  a  more  per- 
fect, valiant,  bold,  or  accomplished 
knight.  He  was  the  flower  of  chiv- 
alry—  beautifid  as  Paris,  pious  as 
Apneas,  vise  as  Ulysses,  in  battle 
ardent  and  ireful  as  Hector.  Yet 
never  Avas  there  man  more  gentle 
and  debonnair.  He  was  sweet,  hum- 
ble, amiable,  and  courteous,  a  great 
almsgiver  and  very  compassionate, 
ever  ready  to  assist  the  widow  and 
the  orphan."  Clu-onique  du  Bon 
Chevalier,  pp.  385,  386. 


ID. 


[book  I. 


CHAP.  II.] 


THE  GOLDEN  FLEECE. 


107 


eal  fighting  to 
the   Seventh 
ays.     He   con- 
he  is  received 
in  a  succeed- 
mcha,  of  whom 
3  the  sea,  and 
dth  of  England 
'  of  exhibiting 
hurrying  after 
mge  the  terms 
ning  unscathed 
y  age  of  thirty- 
n  the  lance  of 
mbat  with  the 

ranting  in  a  fit 
id  gallant  deeds, 
jhivalric  chroni- 


clers— celebrated  the  departing  glory  of  the  Middle 
Ages  in  language  sonorous  hke  a  trumpet,  quaint, 
refulo-ent,  rich,  like  the  emblazonments  of  an  armo- 
rial shield.''^ 

But  the  sentiments  thus  embodied  in  literature 
as  well  as  in  private  life  were  invested  with  still 
higher  dignity  and  grandeur  by  an  institution, 
which,  though  founded  by  a  vassal,  not  by  a  sove- 
reign prince,  far  surpassed  in  lustre  any  other  of 
the  kind  in  Europe.  This  was  the  order  of  the 
Golden  Fleece,  created  by  Philip  the  Good  on  the 
occasion  of  his  marriage  with  the  daughter  of  King 
John  of  Portugal.  The  duke  had  been  already 
twice  wedded,  when,  in  1428,  being  a  widower  and 
without  legitimate  heirs,  he  sent  ambassadors  to 
[the  Portuguese  court  to  negotiate  his  marriage  with 
the  Princess  Isabella,  and  in  their  train  the  cele- 
brated painter  John  van  Eyck,  to  paint  a  likeness 
of  her  for  Philip's  previous  inspection."^   The  portrait 


lemy,  "  thn.t  he  reigned 
he  world  ;  for  the  like 
ithcr  known  nor  could 
ij  land  —  a  more  per- 
bold,  or  accomplished 
was  the  flower  of  chiv- 
ful  as  Paris,  pious  as 
as  Ulysses,  in  battle 
reful  as  Hector.  Yet 
icre  man  more  gentle 
r.  He  was  sweet,  hum- 
and  courteous,  a  {.neat 
d  very  compassionate, 
)  assist  the  widow  and 
'  Chronique  du  Bon 
.  385,  386. 


^'  As  a  narrator,  Chastellain  will 
bear  no  comparison  with  Froissart, 
or,  indeed,  with  writers  much  infe- 
rior to  Froissart.  He  has  no  power 
of  picturesque  description,  and  no 
skill  in  conducting  a  story.  His 
digressions  are  interminable,  his  ha- 
rangues sometimes  insuff'erably  wea- 
risome. The  charm  of  his  writings 
lies  in  his  unique  and  magnificent 
diction,  so  thickly  studded  wilh  ap- 
propriate metaphors  and  conceits, 
and  still  more  in  the  completeness 
with  which  they  reflect  the  senti- 
ments and  ideas  supposed  to  apper- 
tain exclusively  to  noble  birth  and 


breeding.  Froissart  paints  the  man- 
ners and  outward  features  of  an  age 
of  chivalry  ;  Chastellain  is  imbued 
with  its  spirit. 

''*  "  Lesdits  ambaxadeurs,  par  ung 
nomme  maistre  Jehan  de  Eyk,  varlet 
de  chambre  de  mondit  seigneur  de 
Bourgoingne  et  excellent  maistre  en 
art  de  painture,  firent  paindre  bien 
au  vif  la  figure  de  madite  dame  I'in- 
fante  Elizabeth."  Copie  du  verbal 
du  voyaige  de  Portugal,  &c.,  Ga- 
chard.  Hoc.  Inedits,  torn.  ii.  p. 
68. 

1^1.  Gachard  remarks  that  the  bi-- 
ographers  of  John  van  Eyck  have 


108 


COURT  OF  PHILIP  THE  GOOD. 


[book  I. 


I  il 


ii      Mpii  I 


MfiH!! 

; 

:■      1 

I 

'mu 


I      '*'' 


proving  satisfactory,  and  the  proposal  meeting  with 
a  ready  assent,  Isabella  quitted  her  native  shores  in 
November,  1429,  and,  after  a  perilous  voyage,  landed 
at  the  Flemish  port  of  Sluys,  where  she  was  welcomed 
by  such  a  multitude  of  persons,  of  every  rank,  that  it 
was  with  difficulty  a  way  was  opened  to  the  lodgings 
prepared  for  her,  the  road  to  which  had  been  car- 
peted with  fine  woollen  cloth.  Her  reception  at 
Bruges  was  characterized  by  that  magnificence  which 
befitted  the  occasion  and  the  scene.  The  streets 
through  which  she  passed  were  hung  with  tapestry ; 
and,  as  her  litter  made  its  way  slowly  through  the 
press,  escorted  by  a  cortege  comprising  the  members 
of  the  nobility,  and  all  the  great  dignitaries,  civil  and 
ecclesiastical,  of  the  land,  even  the  loud  braying  of 
the  trumpets,  which  made  the  ^whole  city  resonant 
with  music,  was  drowned  by  the  shouts  of  the 
spectators.  The  marriage  festivities  lasted  eight 
days ;  fountains,  in  different  parts  of  the  town,  sent 
forth  perpetual  streams  of  wine,  both  Rhenish  and 
Burgundian;  and  the  people  celebrated  the  event 
in  their  usual  style,  by  giving  free  indulgence  to 
their  national  propensity.'"' 

As  if  to  intimate  the  completeness  with  which  his 
expectations  had  been  realized,  Philip  adopted  in 
honor  of  his  new  spouse  the  motto,  ^^  Autre  rf  array l' — 


been  unacquainted  with  the  facts  that 
he  held  the  pi  st  of  valet-de-chambre 
in  the  household  of  Philip  the  Good, 
and  painted  a  portrait  of  the  Prin- 
cess Isabella  of  Portugal,  v,  Mch  set- 
tle the  much  contested  point  of  the 


period  at  which  his  reputation  be- 
came established. 

''  Gachard,  Doc.  Inddits,  torn.  ii. 
pp.  63-91.  —  Saint-Remy,  cap.  155. 
—  Meyer,  Annales,  fol.  273,  274.  — 
Borante,  (ed.  Gachard,)  tom.  i.  p.  505. 


CHAP.  II.] 


THE  GOLDEN  FLEECE. 


109 


"  I  will  have  no  other,"  —  clearly  meaning,  as  M.  de 
Barante  has  observed,  no  other  vdfe ;  for,  in  respect 
to  mistresses,  the  genial  prince  imposed  as  little 
restraint  upon  his  inclinations  after  his  marriage 
as  he  had  done  before.^*  Slander  even  whispered 
that  it  was  the  charms  not  of  his  bride,  but  of  the 
reigning  favorite,  —  one  of  Bruges's  queenly  beau- 
ties, —  that  incited  him  to  proclaim  in  a  solemn 
manner  his  "great  and  perfect  love  for  the  noble 
state  of  chivalry"  by  creating  a  new  order  of  knight- 
hood. But  this  was  an  idle  calumny.  The  ordinance 
in  which  the  regulations  of  the  fraternity  are  set 
i  forth  assign  as  the  date  of  its  institution  the  10th 
|of  January,  1430,  the  day  of  the  duke's  marriage. 


''*  Philip  is  known  to  have  had 
^twenty-four  mistresses,  and  sixteen 
^.illegitimate  children  male  and  fe- 
male. The  daughters  assumed  the 
veil,  and  became  prioresses,  canon- 
esses,  &c.  The  sons  were  amply 
provided  for,  and  formed  a  stately 
group,  occupying  a  position  not  al- 
together in  the  background  in  the 
tableau  of  the  Burgundian  court. 
The  second  son,  Antony  —  best 
known  by  the  honorable  title  of 
"  the  Great  Bastard  of  Burgundy," 
conferred  upon  him  after  the  death 
of  his  elder  brother,  Cornelius  — 
was  one  of  the  most  redoubted 
knights  and  distinguished  military 
leaders  of  the  time,  and  will  fre- 
quently be  mentioned  in  the  course 
of  these  pages, 

Schassek  informs  us  that,  in  the 
Netherlands,  illegitimacy  was  not 
regarded  as  a  stain.  The  princes 
and  nobles  maintained  their  mis- 


tresses publicly,  and  in  their  own 
houses.  The  ofl'spiing  of  these  un- 
lawful amours  were  educated  with 
the  chilcben  born  in  wedlock,  and 
received  a  share  of  the  inheritance. 
He  deduces  a  conclusion  favorable, 
in  one  respect,  to  the  Flemish  char- 
acter :  "In  iis  enim  rcgionibus  non 
sese  vituperant  et  conviciis  lacerunt, 
uii  apud  nos."  Bitter-,  Hof-,  und 
Pilger-Rcise,  p,  28, 

Duclercq  is  less  lenient  in  describ- 
ing the  general  profligacy  of  the 
higher  classes.  "  Car  lors  c'estoit 
grande  pitie  que  le  pechie  de  luxure 
rcgnoit  moult  fort  et  par  especial  cs 
princes  et  gens  marries ;  et  estoit  le 
plus  gentil  compagnon  qui  plus  de 
femmes  scavoit  tromper  et  avoir  au 
moment,  qui  plus  luxurieulx  estoit ; 
et  mesme  rcgnoit  encoires  plus  icel- 
luy  pechid  de  luxure  es  preslats  de 
I'eglise  et  en  touts  gens  ("eglise," 
tom.  il.  p.  204. 


110 


COURT  OF  PHILIP  THE  GOOD. 


[booz  I. 


•        : 


m- 


!** 


and  allude  to  that  event  in  a  manner  that  can 
leave  no  doubt  as  to  his  motive  and  intention." 
The  number  of  the  members  was  limited  to  thirty- 
one  ;  and  it  was  made  incumbent  upon  those  who 
were  elected  that  they  should  at  once  resign  the 
badge  of  any  other  order  to  which  they  belonged. 
The  dress  was  originally  of  woollen  cloth ;  but  so 
simple  a  costume,  though  in  accordance  with  the 
customs  of  chivalry,  was  not  calculated  to  find  favor 
at  the  Burgundian  court,  and  was  afterwards  ex- 
changed for  robes  of  crimson  velvet  richly  trimmed 
and  embroidered.  From  the  collar,  —  composed  of 
precious  stones  and  pieces  of  gold  interlinked  and 
producing  sparkles,  and  hence  heraldically  desig- 
nated as  "fitsils"  and  "cailloitx"  —  with  the  appro- 
priate legend,  ''Anlc  ferii  qimm  flarnma  micat"  was 
suspended  the  fleece  of  gold,  from  which  the  order 
derived  its  name.^° 

The  chapters  were  held  on  the  day  of  Saint  Andrew, 
the  patron  saint  of  Burgundy.  Olivier  de  Lamarche 
has  described  the  imposing  forms,  as  he  witii'  ssed 
them  for  the  first  time,  at  Ghent,  in  1445.  The 
knights,  attired  in  their  robes  and  turbans,  passed 
in  procession  through  the  streets,  the  youngest 
members  of  the  order  going  first,  and  the  tluke,  as 
"chief  .'ind  sovereign,"  (for  the  title  of  '-grand-mas- 
ter" does  not  seem  to  have  oeen  adopted.)  walking 


'*  There  is  nlso  an  obvious  allu-  order.    Isabella  doubtless  had  her 

sion  to  the  embassy  sent  to  woo  the  guardian  dragon  —  or  duenna, 

princess  and  conduct  her  to  the  Neth-  ■"  Reiffenberg,  Hist,  de  la  Toison 

erlands  in  the  title  selected  for  the  d'Or,  4to.,  (Bruxelles,  1830.) 


hilii 


CHAP,  n.] 


THE  GOLDEN  FLEECE. 


Ill 


ch  the  order 


alone  and  last.  At  the  door  of  the  cathedral  church 
of  Saint  John  (now  that  of  Saint  Bavon)  they  were 
met  by  the  canons  and  other  clergy,  and  escorted 
to  the  choir,  where  each  knight  took  his  seat  beneath 
an  escutcheon  emblazoned  with  his  arms  and  devices. 
Even  the  vacant  seats  of  members  no  longer  living 
occupied  their  usual  places ;  but  the  arms  above 
them  were  painted  on  a  black  ground. 

The  duke  sat  beneath  a  canopy  of  cloth  of  gold, 
in  front  of  the  high  altar,  where  hung  the  peerless 
masterpiece  of  Van  Eyck,  the  Adoration  of  the 
Spotless  Lamb  —  portions  of  which,  saved  from  the 
felonious  grasp  of  that  Spanish  sovereign  who  sought 
to  rob  the  Flemings  not  only  of  their  liberty  but 
of  the  productions  of  their  genius,  are  still  the 
objects  of  a  scrupulous  custody  in  the  ancient  edi- 
iice  which  they  first  adorned.  After  mass  had  been 
chanted  by  as  many  priests  as  there  were  members 
of  the  order,  the  king-at-arms,  kneeling  thrice  before 
the  duke,  presented  him  with  a  lighted  taper,  and, 
addressing  him  by  his  different  titles,  (duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, Brabant,  and  Lunbourg,  count  of  Flanders, 
Ariois,  &c.,)  summoned  him  to  the  offering.  Each 
member  performed  the  ceremony  in  his  turn ;  ancT, 
when  it  came  to  that  of  a  deceased  knight,  the 
king-at-arms  assumed  hie  place,  and  made  the  offer- 
ing in  his  name." 

The  business  transacted  in  the  chapters  was  by 
no  means  confined  to  matters  of  form.    The  order 


'^  Lamarche,  torn.  i.  p.  427,  et  seq. 


112 


COURT  OF  PHILIP  THE  GOOD. 


[book  I. 


1  u 


H 


^  f 


of  the  Golden  Fleece  had  a  great  political  signifi- 
cance. It  was,  in  fact,  the  Burgundian  sovereign's 
House  of  Peers.  It  did  not,  indeed,  exercise  the 
functions  of  a  legislative  assembly;  nor  was  there 
in  the  Netherlands  any  constituent  body  invested 
with  such  functions.  But  it  separated  by  broader 
lines  of  demarcation  the  most  wealthy  and  distin- 
guished nobles,  to  whom  alone  the  badge  was  given, 
from  the  other  members  of  their  class.  It  raised 
them  to  the  position  of  grandees ;  it  conferred  upon 
them  valuable  and  exclusive  privileges.  If  one  of 
them  was  charged  with  an  offence  against  the  laws, 
the  order  became  a  high  court  of  judicature,  before 
which  alone  he  could  be  tried.  In  the  perplexities 
of  the  sovereign  the  knights  were  convoked  as  a 
great  council,  to  aid  him  with  their  advice ;  and  such 
an  assembly,  if  it  had  little  influence  in  determining 
the  course  of  the  government,  gave  additional  dig- 
nity to  its  more  important  acts.  It  was  the  duty 
of  the  brotherhood  to  reprehend  a  member  whose 
life  and  manners  were  not  strictly  governed  by  the 
rules  of  knightly  breeding.  They  performed  this 
office  even  in  the  case  of  the  sovereign ;  and  we 
sliall  hereafter  see  the  least  patient  of  princes  sub- 
mitting without  resentment  to  such  reproofs,  when 
they  touched  upon  the  most  sensitive  points  of 
his  character  and  the  most  glaring  of  his  faults.'* 

'*  So,  too,  in  the  sixteenth  centurj',  turned  a  courteous  answer,  excusing 

the  Emperor  Charles  V.,  when  cen-  himself  and  promising  amendment, 

sured  by  the  order  for  his  dilatory  In  1559  Philip  II.  received  a  reproof 

habits    and  his   niggardliness,  re-  for  disregarding  the  privileges  of  the 


I 


CUAF.  II.] 


PHILIP'S  POSITION  AND  POLICY. 


113 


But  if  the  duke,  by  his  personal  submission  to  its 
strictures,  exalted  the  authority  of  the  order  to  the 
highest  pitch,  so  much  the  more  powerful  was  it 
as  an  element  in  his  dominion,  and  an  engine 
of  his  will.  It  furnished  him  with  the  means  of 
exercising  a  stronger  influence  over  the  whole  mass 
of  the  nobility;  it  brought  the  proudest  and  most 
ambitious  of  his  vassals  into  a  closer  connection 
with  him,  made  them  more  dependent  on  his  favor, 
and  enabled  him  to  maintain  a  closer  supervision 
over  their  conduct,  and  to  inflict  no  ordinary  pun- 
ishment upon  those  who  had  become  the  objects 
of  his  jealousy  or  dislike.  The  censure  of  the 
Golden  Fleece  carried  with  it  a  stigma  that  was 
not  easily  removed ;  but  how  impressive  was  the 
scene,  when,  after  sentence  of  degradation  had 
been  pronounced,  the  king-at-arms,  in  the  presence 
of  the  full  conclave  of  nobles,  erased  the  insignia 
of  the  unworthy  knight,  and  left  his  escutcheon 
blank ! 


Thus  Philip  the  Good,  though  not  a  king,  occupied 
a  position  which,  in  the  language  of  his  eulogist, 
there  was  no  king  who  did  not  envy.  He  ruled 
over  the  wealthiest  states  in  Europe  ;  he  was  the 
acknowledged  head  of  chivalry.  In  the  chapters 
of  the  proud   order  which  he  had  created  he  sat 


knights,  and  for  undertaking  great  ply ;  and  the  chapters  were  thence- 

affairs  without  askmg  their  advice,  forth  discontinued.  Reiffenberg,  Hist. 

The  gloomy  Spaniard  made  no  re-  de  la  Toison  d'Or,  pp.  376, 476, 477. 
VOL.  I.                15 


114 


PHILIP'S  POSITION  AND  POLICY. 


[boos  I. 


I ') 


I  li 


lilte  Arthur  among  his  knights,  like  Charlemagne 
among  his  peers. 

But  his  position  was  a  strangely  anomalous  one. 
Great  as  was  his  power,  he  was,  after  all,  but  a 
vassal.  He  was  the  subject  not  only  of  the  king  of 
France,  but  of  the  emperor  of  Germany.  In  the  fig- 
urative language  of  Chastellain,  "  he  held  the  safety 
of  France  in  his  keeping,  and  the  tranquillity  of  the 
Occident  in  his  hand;"  yet,  by  the  terms  of  his 
feudal  investiture,  he  was  "  the  king's  man,"  bound 
to  serve  him  in  the  field  and  to  attend  upon  him 
in  his  court.  He  had  expelled  his  sovereign  from 
the  throne ;  he  had  made  peace  at  his  own  discretion 
and  on  his  own  terms;  and  in  the  midst  of  his 
splendor,  whilst  sitting  at  the  banquet  of  the  Golden 
Fleece,  an  usher  of  the  Parliament  of  Paris  puts 
into  his  hand  a  writ  which  summons  him  to  appear 
before  that  tribunal  in  person,  in  a  suit  instituted 
against  him  by  one  of  his  own  subjects.^' 


iN|; 


'*  "  Icclui  huissier  gardant  son 
exploit  jusquc  au  jour  Saint-Andrieu, 
le  jour  principal  de  la  feste  de  son 
ordre,  que  lui,  le  due  d'Orlcans,  et 
tous  les  chevaliers  de  la  Toison  d'or, 
estoient  en  leurs  mantcaux,  en  la 
gloire  et  solempnit^  de  leur  estat,  en 
sale,  non  d'un  due  par  semblant,  mais 
d'un  empereur,  tout  prest  de  asseoir 
k  table,  et  en  point  de  prendre  I'eau, 
vint  icelui  tout  deliberc  et  h  inten- 
cion  d'esvergonder  la  compaignie,  ne 
say  de  qui  instiguc  ou  non,  et  soy 
ruant  i^  genoux  le  mandement  en  sa 
main,  fit  son  exploit  et  son  adjoume- 


ment, .  .  .  commc  pour  donner  h,  en- 
tendre :  '  Vecy  le  flayel  de  vostre 
extollacion  fiere  que  vous  avcz  prise, 
qui  vous  vient  corrigier  droit  cy  et 
pincier,  et  vous  monstrer  qui  vous 
estes.' "    Chastellain,  p.  xix. 

He  mentions  the  attempt  of  an- 
other usher  to  break  open  the  prison 
at  Lille,  and  liberate  a  prisoner  who 
had  appealed  to  the  Parliament. 
Resistance  was  made,  a  disturbance 
followed ;  and  the  duke,  who  chanced 
to  be  in  the  town,  came  up,  attended 
by  several  of  his  suite.  He  looked 
on,  however,  in  silence,  until  the  peo- 


CHAP.  11.] 


PHILIP'S  POSITION  AND  POUCY. 


115 


His  relations  with  the  people  of  his  different 
states  were  also  of  a  peculiar  character.  He  was 
the  head  of  feudalism  ;  but  commerce  and  the 
arts  of  peace  were  antagonistic  to  feudalism,  and 
they  flourished  in  the  Netherlands  while  in  nearly 
every  other  part  of  Europe  they  were  feeble  and 
debased.  He  stood  upon  the  border  land  of  two 
different  eras  —  he  himself  looking  towards  the 
past,  his  subjects  looking  towards  the  future.  If 
the  page  "of  Chastellain  was  still  illuminated  by  the 
pomp  and  grace  of  chivalry,  there  was  at  this  very 
time  growing  up,  under  the  duke's  own  eye,  a  writer 
who  at  no  distant  period  was  to  touch  upon  such 
themes  with  caustic  irony,  and  who  in  a  terse  and 
pointed  style,  which  the  modern  historian  has  seldom 
rivalled,  was  to  commemorate  the  anti-chivalrous 
and  anti-feudal  reign  of  Louis  the  Eleventh.** 


■f  ,j 


pie  prepared  to  thr''  .v  the  officer  into 
the  river  —a  or  tastrophe  which  Philip 
prevented,  "  pour  reverence  du  roy." 
*"  Among  the  French  chroniclers 
and  memoir-writers  the  name  of 
Philippe  de  Commines  stands  pre- 
eminent. He  is  the  first  in  order  (as 
well  as  in  rank)  of  the  modern  au- 
thors of  this  class  —  not,  as  some 
critics  assert,  the  last  of  an  earlier 
race.  With  the  deepest  respect  for 
Dr.  Arnold's  extensive  scholarship, 
and  reverence  for  his  character,  we 
venture  to  think  his  notion,  that  the 
Memoirs  of  Commines  exemplify  the 
complete  unconsciousness  of  his  gen- 
eration in  regard  to  its  position  while 
standing  on  the  very  verge  of  a  new 
era,  singularly  incorrect  "  The  knell 


of  the  Middle  Ages,"  he  remarks, 
"  has  been  already  8ounded,yet  Com- 
mines has  no  other  notions  than  such 
as  they  had  tended  to  foster."  It  is 
true  that  Commines  did  not  foresee 
the  Reformation  and  the  consequent 
rise  of  popular  power  and  popular 
institutions;  nor  do  his  comments 
and  digressions  partake  of  the  char- 
acter of  philosophical  disquisition. 
But  no  >hi)j8opher,  standing  aloof 
from  the  -;  iairs  and  movements  of 
the  age,  could  have  more  thorough- 
ly appreciated  the  decay  which  was 
at  work  in  its  political  customs  and 
mstitutions,  the  transfer  of  political 
power  into  new  hands,  and  its  tran- 
sition into  a  new  form.  He  exhibits 
the  workings  and  the  influence  of 


fjpri 


116 


PHIUP'S   POSITION  AND  POUCY. 


[book  I. 


I    ( 


Nowhere,  too,  did  Philip's  sway  rest  upon  that 
old  hereditary  right,  which,  in  an  age  when  a  polit- 
ical system  was  moulded  into  shape  by  circumstance 


that  system  of  policy  of  which  Ma- 
cliiavelli  was  the  first  to  expound  the 
principles  and  the  theory.  The  evi- 
dence that  he  represents  the  prog- 
ress and  the  transitional  character 
of  the  period  at  which  he  wrote  is 
to  be  found  in  his  covert  or  open 
contempt  for  actions,  sentiments, 
and  ideas  regarded  by  most  of  his 
contemporaries  with  a  serious  ad- 
miration ;  in  his  perception  of  the 
true  functions  of  government,  of  the 
mutual  relations  of  the  different  Eu- 
ropean powers,  and  of  the  importance 
uf  diplomacy ;  in  his  emphatic  praise 
of  the  English  constitution  and  dis- 
cernment of  its  peculiar  features ;  in 
his  abandonment  of  the  Burgundian 
court  and  devotion  to  the  service  of 
Louis  XI. ;  in  the  nature  and  purpose 
of  bis  work,  and  even  in  the  charac- 
teristics of  his  style,  so  little  colored 
with  the  richly  tinted  phraseology  of 
the  time,  so  free  from  its  pedan-y 
and  prolixity,  so  clear,  masculine,and 
chastened  by  the  precision  and  net- 
tek'oi  the  best  modern  French  prose. 
One  phrase  which  he  has  employed 
is  frequently  cited,  but  not,  we 
think,  with  a  right  conception  of  its 
sense.  The  distinguished  author 
of  the  "Rise  of  the  Dutch  Re- 
public," in  the  introduction  to  that 
admirable  work,  speaks  of  "  au- 
thors like  Olivier  de  Lamarche  and 
Philippe  de  Commines,  who,  in  the 
language  of  the  latter,  '  wrote  not 
for  the  amusement  of  brutes,  and 
people  of  low  degree,  but  for  princes 
and  other  persons  of  quality.' "  Thus, 


by  translating  bestes  "  brutes,"  sim- 
ples yens  "  people  of  low  degree," 
and  gens  de  cour  "  persons  of  qual- 
ity," Commines,  who  never  misses 
an  occasion  of  sneering  at  the  igno- 
rance of  the  nobility,  —  Commines, 
the  eulogist  and  protege  of  Louis 
XI.,  of  the  monarch,  that  is  to  say, 
who  degraded  the  royal  office  (ac- 
cording to  the  estimation  of  the  age) 
by  choosing  his  servants  and  favor- 
ites from  the  meanest  class,  and  by 
habitually  and  systematically  disre- 
garding the  pretensions  of  birth,  — 
is  represented  as  the  chami)ion  of 
aristocracy,  nnd  as  having  compiled 
his  memoirs  with  the  view  of  pro- 
viding cntertarnment  for  high-bom 
gentlemen  and  ladies.  Rut  the  mean- 
ing of  the  historian  is  very  different. 
He  has  been  saying  that  he  docs  not 
relate  the  particulars  of  a  certain 
transaction  for  the  purpose  of  cast- 
ing reproach  upon  the  parties  con- 
cerned, but  because  he  has  under- 
taken to  give  a  faithful  narrative  of 
the  events  with  which  he  is  acquaint- 
ed ;  "  and,"  he  adds,  —  as  a  reason 
why  he  should  enter  into  such  de- 
tails, —  "  I  do  not  count  upon  these 
memoirs  being  read  by  the  ignorant, 
or  by  persons  in  private  stations ; 
but  I  think  they  will  furnish  good 
hints  to  princes  and  court-people" 
(i.  e.,  official  persons,  who  have  to 
deal  with  such  matters.)  In  short, 
Commines,  instead  of  classing  him- 
self with  Lamarche  and  similar  writ- 
ers, intended  to  distinguish  himself 
from  them :  their  books,  stuffed  with 


CHAP.  II.] 


PHIUP'S  PosrnoN  and  toucy. 


117 


and  time,  formed  the  firmcHt  baHis  of  authority.  In 
none  of  his  states  was  he  the  lineal  representative, 
through  male  heirs,  of  their  ancient  princes.  In 
some  of  them  he  sat  upon  the  uneasy  throne  of  a 
conqueror.  But,  for  the  most  part,  the  house  of 
Burgundy  owed  its  aggrandizement,  like  the  house 
of  Habsburg,  to  its  matrimonial  alliances;  and  its 
acquisitions  went  at  last,  with  those  of  the  house  of 
Habsburg,  to  swell  the  dominions  of  a  monarchy 
which  had  itself  been  consolidated  by  the  same 
means,  and  which,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  threat- 
ened to  absorb  the  larger  part  of  the  European 
continent 

Philip  the  Good  ruled,  in  fact,  over  a  heterogeneous 
aggregate  of  states.  His  authority  over  each  rested 
on  a  distinct  title,  and  Avas   exercised   by  distinct 


descriptions  of  pageants  and  tour- 
naments, were  written  for  the  amuse- 
ment of  idle  people,  not  over-fur- 
nished with  brains,  unacquainted 
with  the  internal  springs  of  policy 
and  little  interested  in  their  opera- 
tions ;  his  book  was  meant  as  a 
manual  for  statesmen,  and  was  ded- 
icated to  Angelo  Cato,  one  of  the 
most  learned  men  of  the  age,  with 
n  view  to  its  being  translated  into 
Latin  and  enriched  by  additional  par- 
ticulars gathered  from  other  sources. 
That  Commines  used  the  word  bite 
in  its  ordinary  signification  (de- 
noting ignorance  and  obtuseness, 
not  the  brutality  of  the  canaille) 
will  be  apparent  from  a  citation 
not  inapposite  on  other  accounts. 
Speaking  of  the  want  of  knowledge 
and  contempt  for  learning  so  com- 


monly manifested  by  feudal  princes, 
"  God,"  he  says,  "  did  not  establish 
the  office  of  king,  or  ruler  howsoever 
entitled,  to  be  exercised  by  the  bestes, 
nor  by  such  as  out  of  vainglory  say,  % 
'  I  am  no  clerk  ;  I  leave  all  to  my 
council ;  I  trust  to  them.' " 

M.  Kervyn  de  Letterhove,  quot- 
ing the  same  passage  as  Mr.  Mot- 
ley, and  putting  the  same  construc- 
tion upon  it,  thus  sharpens  the 
supposed  antithesis  :  "  U  mdprisa 
fort  les  heates  et  simples  gens :  il 
n'ecrit  que  pour  les  rois."  (Bul- 
letins de  TAcad.  de  Brux.  1859, 
p.  278.)  Had  M.  Kervyn  ever  read 
the  remarks  of  Commines  on  "  la 
bestialiti  des  princes  et  leur  igno- 
rance" in  the  18th  chapter  of  the 
6th  book,  and  elsewhere  P 


"W  El 


118 


PIOLIP'S    POSITION  AND  POUCY. 


(book  t. 


i:      ■'  i\.     \  I 


methods.  No  two  of  thtMn  liad  precisoly  tho  same 
laws,  the  same  cu.stomH,  or  tlio  same  national  history. 
The  provinces  did  not  constitute  a  country,  and  the 
inhaliitants  did  not  constitute  a  people.  In  the 
Netherlands  two  dissimilar  races  dwelt  side  by  side ; 
two  totally  diflerent  lan<^uages  were  spoken  ;  and 
each  so  tenaciously  maintained  its  ancient  hold, 
that,  in  a  shigle  city,  neither  was  able  to  gain  an 
inch  of  ground,  and  they  have  preserved  their 
respective  limits  down  to  the  present  day. 

Nor  did  Philip's  states  even  constitute  a  group, 
enclosed  within  a  common  boundary.  The  two 
Burgundies  were  separated  from  the  Netherlands 
by  Alsace  and  by  Lorraine.  When  he  travelled 
flora  one  part  of  his  dominions  to  another,  ho  was 
obliged  to  pass  over  foreign  territory.  If  the  ruler 
of  that  territory  were  hostile  to  him,  he  could  per- 
form his  journey  only  at  the  head  of  an  army.  In 
time  of  war  his  presence  would  have  been  equally 
.necessary  at  Dijon  and  ui  Brussels.  But,  in  such 
a  case,  he  was  liable  to  be  cut  off  from  the  states 
which  furnished  him  Avith  money,  or  from  those 
which  furnished  him  with  men. 

Out  of  these  elements  would  it  have  been  possible 
to  form  a  monarchy  ?  Philip  the  Good  never  made 
the  attempt.  He  was  wont  to  assert  that  he  had 
more  than  once  refused  the  title  of  "  king "  —  and 
it  is  {it  least  certain  that  intimations  from  the  im- 
perial court,  pointing  in  this  direction,  had  been  suf- 
fered to  pass  without  any  response.  In  spite  of  his 
early  hostility  to  France,  he  gloried  in  his  French 


ciur.  II.] 


rniLiP's  posrrioN  and  i'omcy. 


ll!i 


extraction  and  in  his  nearness  to  the  throne  —  in 
his  precedence  at  the  court,  in  his  privileges  as  the 
"  premier  peer'*  of  France,  in  his  right  to  place  the 
crown  with  his  own  hands  upon  the  king's  head, 
and  to  be  the  first  to  do  homage  to  him  and  to 
promise  him  obedience.  lie  himself  was  far  from 
regarding  his  position  as  strange.  To  con(|uer  prov- 
ince after  province,  to  accumulate  power  and  wealth, 
seemed  to  him  natural  efforts  of  ambition.  But  to 
take  that  one  step  further  which  would  have  con- 
ducted him  to  independent  sovereignty,  to  find  some 
stronger  bond  of  union  than  the  slender  and  acci- 
dental tie  by  which  he  had  bound  one  acquisition 
with  another,  to  overturn  an  existing  system  and 
to  establish  a  new  one  in  its  place,  —  this  was  not 
the  object  of  an  ambition  such  as  his. 

Yet  there  was  every  thing  in  such  a  project  to 
kindle  the  ambition  of  one  who  occupied  the  place 
of  Philip  and  possessed  the  same  resources.  To 
remove  obsolete  institutions,  to  substitute  political 
order  for  political  chaos,  is  the  proper  task  of  an 
able  and  aspiring  statesman.  To  it)und  the  limits 
of  his  empire,  and  secure  its  integrity,  must  be  the 
first  and  strongest  desire  of  a  warlike  prince.  If 
the  right  of  appeal  to  the  Parliament  of  Paris  were 
cut  off,  Flanders  would  cea^^e  in  all  but  the  name 
to  be  a  part  of  France.  If  the  interlying  prov- 
inces were  annexed.  Burgundy  and  the  Netherlands 
would  be  united.  If  the  sovereign  were  invested 
with  the  regal  dignity,  the  consolidation  of  his  do- 
minions might  be  expected  to  follow  as  a  neceasary 


I;* 


120 


PHILIP'S  POSITION  AND  POLICY. 


[book  I. 


Hi: 


I'^'j'iili 


consequence.  There  had  been  an  ancient  kingdom 
of  Burgundy,  extending  from  the  Vosges  to  the 
Mediterranean :  why  not  a  modem  kingdom  of 
Burgundy,  extending  from  the  Alps  to  the  German 
Ocean  ? 

This  project  was  not  long  to  remain  imconceived 
or  unattempted.  It  was  an  idea  well  suited  to  a 
prince  bold  in  character,  stubborn  of  purpose,  war- 
like in  disposition,  incited  to  great  attempts  not 
merely  by  the  love  of  fame,  but  by  the  instincts 
and  energies  of  his  nature.  Such  was  not  the 
character  of  Philip ;  and  him,  therefore,  this  idea  did 
not  captivate  and  possess.  But  it  was  to  be  the 
dream  —  the  splendid,  the  vain,  the  iatal  dream  — 
of  Philip's  successor. 


ill! 


■Mil 


CHAPTER    III. 


THB  HEIB   OF  BURGUNDY.  —  THE    HEIR   OF   FRANCE.  —  ACCESSION 

OF  LOUIS   XL 


1433-1461. 

Dijon,  the  ancient  capital  of  Burgundy,  stands  at 
the  confluence  of  two  rivers  and  at  the  entrance 
of  a  vast  but  sheltered  and  fertile  plain.  Seen  from 
the  vine-clad  elevations  of  the  Cote  d'Or,  it  wears 
an  aspect  of  peculiar  sternness  —  a  group  of  mas- 
sive structures  casting  frowns  upon  a  smiling  land- 
scape. Though  it  had  ceased  under  the  house  of 
Valois  to  be  the  ordinary  residence  of  the  dukes, 
it  was  still  regarded  as  their  home.  Here  all  save 
the  first  of  the  line  were  born;  here  all  save  the 
last  of  the  line  were  buried.  Just  outside  the  walls 
stood  the  family  mausoleum  —  a  great  Carthusian 
convent,  raised  by  Philip  the  Bold,  the  founder  of 
the  dynasty ;  and  in  the  heart  of  the  town,  enclosed 
within  buildings  of  more  recent  date,  a  single  tower 
of  the  old  ducal  palace  may  still  be  found  which 
was  the  birthplace  of  John  the  Fearless,  of  Philip 


VOL.  I. 


16 


(121) 


m 


122 


THE  HEIR  OF  BURGUNDY. 


f    Iff 


nr'  I 


,i  a* 


! 


[book  I. 


the  Good,  and  of  the  prince  with  whom  this  dynasty 
became  extinct.* 

Charles  of  Burgundy  was  bom  on  the  10th  of 
November,  1433.''  The  earlier  offspring  of  the 
Duchess  Isabella  had  died  in  infancy.  Her  third, 
and,  as  it  proved,  her  last  child,  was  therefore  an 
object  of  especial  tenderness  and  care ;  and,  con- 
trary to  the  usage  of  women  of  exalted  rank,  his 
mother  nourished  him  from  her  own  breast.  In 
his  case,  however,  any  excess  of  maternal  solicitude 
might  safely  have  been  dispensed  with.  Far  from 
being  a  weakling,  the  boy  had  been  endowed  by 
nature  with  a  constitution  of  extraordinary  vigor. 

On  the  day  of  his  baptism  he  was  invested  with 
the  order  of  the  Golden  Fleece  and  with  the  title 
of  Count  of  Charolais.'  Before  he  was  two  years 
old  his  mother  removed  with  him -^  to  the  Nether- 
lands, where,  as  soon  as  he  had  reached  a  suitable 
age,  he  was  placed  under  the  care  of  a  nobleman 
distinguished  for  the  integrity  and  decorum  of  his 
life,  to  be  trained  in  the  habits  and  accomplish- 
ments that  were  thought  to  befit  an  illustrious 
station. 


'  Lacuisine,  Esquiases  Dijonnais, 
Mdm.  dv  i'Acad.  de  Dijon,  1845,  p. 
1 1 2.— Courtepce,  torn.  ii.  pp.  83, 1 26, 

'  As  this  was  the  Vigil  of  Saint 
Martin,  he  received  the  baptismal  ap- 
pellation of  "  Charles  Martin."  But 
the  second  name  seems  never  to  have 
been  used.  Had  Luther,  who  was 
bom  on  the  same  anniversary  just 
half  a  century  later,  (1483,)  been  the 


son  not  of  a  peasant,  but  of  a  prince, 
the  saint's  name,  bestowed  upon  him 
according  to  a  common  Catholic 
custom,  would  have  been  forgotten 
in  some  lordlier  prefix. 

'  The  county  of  Charolais,  an  ar- 
riere-fief  of  Burgundy,  was  reserved 
as  an  appanage  for  the  heir  to  the 
duchy.  It  had  been  purchased  by 
Philip  the  Bold. 


CHAP.  III.] 


HIS  YOUTH  AND  EDUCATION. 


123 


The  lord  of  Auxy  found  himself  intrusted  with  no 
light  or  easy  charge.  The  vehement  temper  of  the 
young  count  gave  early  and  constant  proof  that  the 
blood  of  his  paternal  ancestors  flowed  in  his  veins 
with  undiminished  impetuosity.*  Yet  the  strength 
of  the  current  was  not  indicated  merely  by  its 
violence.  He  displayed  a  persistency  of  will  that 
seemed  to  mark  him  out  as  one  destined  for  labo- 
rious undertakings.  His  power  of  application  was 
remarkable ;  and  he  acquired  a  much  larger  share 
of  the  learning  of  the  age  than  was  commonly  pos- 
sessed by  persons  of  noble  birth.  But  the  works  of 
the  Latin  authors  —  which  he  is  said  to  have  been 
able  to  read  and  understand  without  the  aid  of 
commentaries^  —  failed  at  first  to  interest  his  mind 
in  the  same  degree  as  the  romances  of  chivalry." 
These,  it  is  true,  were  but  ideal  pictures ;  but  they 
idealized  the  life  which  came  under  his  own  obser- 
vation and  in  Avhich  he  was  to  bear  a  conspicuous 
part;  and  his  was  a  mind  that  dreamed  of  reali- 
ties, and  panted  for  action. 

When  he  was  eighteen  years  of  age  he  took  his 


i  p 

Hi 


*  Or,  as  Lamarche  euphuistically 
expresses  jt,  "  II  estoit  chaud,  actif, 
et  despit,  et  desiroit  en  sa  condition 
enfantine  h,  faire  ses  voulontez  ^ 
petites  corrections."  Mcmoires,  torn. 
iL  p.  62. 

*  Barlandus,  De  Carolo  Burgundo, 
(Francofurti,  1585,)  p.  298.— Jaeger 
remarks  that  there  was  no  scholar 
of  that  age  in  respect  to  whom  such 
a  statement  could  be  received  with' 


out  qualification.  Geschichte  Carls 
des  Kiihnen,  (Niimberg,  1795,)  p. 
27.  —  "II  apprenoit  k  I'escole  moult 
bien, . . .  et  retenoit  ce  qu'il  avoit 
ouy,  mieux  qu'autre  de  son  aage." 
Lamarche,  tom.  ii.  p.  62. 

•  "  S'appliquoit  a  lire  et  faire  lire 
devant  iuy  du  commencement  les 
joyeux  comptes  et  faicts  de  Lancelot 
et  de  Oauvain."    Idem,  loc.  dU 


t  i 

i 
T.-5- 


'iA 


124 


THE  HEIR  OF  BURGUNDY. 


[book  I. 


"*  ,    I  'i 


ill  ^  1 1 


degree  in  what  then  constituted  the  most  impor- 
tant branch  of  education  —  horsemanship  and  the 
use  of  the  lance  —  hy  jousting  in  pubHc  with  that 
consummate  master  of  martial  exercises,  •  Jacques 
de  Lalain.  The  duchess,  who  could  seldom  be  in- 
duced to  be  present  on  such  occasions,  witnessed 
ihe  encounter,  and  trembled  with  apprehension  at 
the  moment  of  the  shock.  Philip,  however,  laughed 
at  her  fears,  and  ,^aw  with  complacency  the  proofs 
of  skill  and  courage  given  by  his  son.  "  The 
mother,"  says  a  chronicler,  "  thought  only  of  safety, 
the  father  only  of  honor."'  To  Charles  himself  the 
tilting-field  was  not  a  place  for  idle  display,  but  a 
school  of  arms.  He  became  a  "rude  jouster,"  de- 
meaning himself  in  the  lists  like  a  poor  knight 
hoping  to  win  favor  and  fortune  by  his  valor,  rather 
than  like  a  prince  conscious  of  admiring  glarces 
and  secure  of  easy  triumphs.® 

The  rebellion  of  Ghent,  which  broke  out  in  1452, 
gave  him  an  opportunity  of  displaying  his  prowess 
in  enterprises  of  greater  peril.  Even  Philip  would 
fain  have  spared  his  son  so  early  an  acquaintance 
with  the  hazards  of  war.  But  the  count  swore  by 
Saint  George  —  his  common  and  only  oath  —  that 
he  would  go  in  his  doublet  rather  than  not  accom- 
pany his  father  to  take  vengeance  on  his  rebellious 


iSi  ■ 


i.;    ■' 


">  "  De  ce  coup  ne   fut  pas  la  prince  ou  un  signeur,  mais  comme 

duchesse   contente   dudict   Messire  un  chevalier    dur,   puissant,   et   h 

Jacques :  mais  le  bon  due  s'en  rioit.  doubter,  .  .  .  comir     si  c'eust  estd 

. .  .  L'un  desiroit  I'epreuve  et  I'au-  un  pauvre  compoiguon,  qui  desirast 

tre  la  seuretc."  Idem,  torn.  ii.  p.  60.  son  avancement  u  ce  mestier."  Idem, 

'  "  Non  pas  seulement  comme  un  tom.  ii.  p.  156. 


!     :■'! 


CHAP,  in.] 


HIS  MARRIAGE. 


125 


subjects.  In  the  encounters  which  took  place  he 
displayed  the  headstrong  valor  of  a  young  soldier 
mino-led  with  the  peculiar  obstinacy  of  his  race. 
He  distinguished  himself  in  the  battle  of  Gavre  by 
cutting  his  way  through  a  body  of  Flemings,  and 
relieving  his  father,  who  had  been  surroimded,  from 
imminent  peril.  Having  been  sent  with  *»  party 
of  troops  to  surprisv;  the  town  of  Moerbeke,  he 
found  the  place  strongly  defended  and  prepared 
for  the  attack.  The  veteran  captains  by  wlif^in 
he  was  accompanied  wore  unable  to  convince  him 
that  the  project  must  be  abandoned.  "At  least," 
he  exclaimeti,  "let  us  not  retreat:  let  us  lie  here 
to-night  in  face  of  the  enemy,  and  wait  for  artillery 
and  reenforcements."  And  when  overruled  in  this, 
he  could  not  refrain  from  tears  of  angry  disap- 
pointment." 

By  one  of  the  provisions  of  the  treaty  of  Arras 
the  count  of  Charolais  had  been  betrothed  to  a 
daughter  of  Charles  the  Seventh.  The  lady,  how- 
ever, died  before  the  marriage  could  be  consum- 
mated. Philip  then  selected  as  his  son's  bride 
another  French  princess,  a  daughter  of  the  duke 
of  Bourbon.  But  the  count,  influenced  bA-  his 
mother,  manifested  a  repugnance  to  this  match. 
The  duchess,  who  was  descended  on  the  maternal 
side  from  the  royal  house  of  England,  was  strongly 
desirous  that  her  son  should  ally  himself  with  that 
family.     The  duke,  on  the   contrary,  regarded  his 


I'M  ?1 


5'  'I 


'  "  Dont  il  larmoyoit  de  depit  et  de  courage.'*   Idem,  torn.  ii.  p.  113. 


126 


THE  HEIR  OF  BURGUNDY. 


[book  I, 


■i  'i£ 


|||if| 


old  allies  only  with  feelings  of  aversion,  while  his 
loyalty  to  his  own  sovereign  seemed  to  be  strength- 
ened by  the  recollections  of  their  former  enmity. 
He  summoned  Charles  inio  his  presence,  and  sternly 
commanded  him  to  lay  aside  all  tljoughts  of  such 
a  marriage.  Though  circumstances  had  compelled 
him,  in  early  life,  to  connect  himself  with  the  ene- 
mies of  France,  he  had  never,  he  said,  "been  English 
at  heart;"  and  he  menaced  his  son  with  banish- 
ment and  disinheritance  in  case  of  further  resistance. 
"Aj  for  this  bastard,"  he  added,  turning  towards 
one  of  his  natural  sons,  whom  he  suspected  of 
having  encouraged  the  count  in  his  opposition,  "  if 
I  find  that  he  counsels  you  to  set  yourself  against 
my  wishes,  I  will  have  him  tied  up  in  a  sack  and 
thrown  into  the  sea."^" 

Charles's  marriage  vnth  Isabella  of  Bourbon  took 
place  in  1454.  Though  a  reluctant  bridegroom,  he 
became  strongly  attached  to  his  wife ;  and  his  treat- 
ment of  her  during  their  union,  which  lasted  eleven 
years,  was  such  as  gave  her  no  cause  for  com- 
plaint. In  a  dissolute  age,  and  at  a  court  whore 
the  sovereign  himself  set  an  example  of  open  licen- 
tiousness, the  count  of  Charolais  presented  what 
was  certainly  a  rare,  if  not  the  only,  instance  of 
marital  fidelity."    His  faults,  indeed,  were  not  such 


'0  Duclercq,  torn.  ii.  p.  203.  — He 
asserts  that  the  marriage  took  place 
on  the  same  day,  and  adds,  "  Par  le 
commandement  tres  cxprcs  du  due, 
Charles  coucha  icelle  nuict  avee  sa 
femme." 


"  "  La  quelle  depuis  il  aima  tant 
que  c'estoit  beile  chose  de  la  belle  vie 
touchant  marriage  qu'ils  menoient, 
ct  disoient  pour  vray,  que  pour  rien 
icelluy  Charles  n'eust  alle  a  aultre 
femme  que  la  sienne."  Idem,  p.  204. 


CUAP.  III.] 


mS  CHARACTER. 


127 


as  arise  from  an  inordinate  love  of  pleasure.  He 
ate  sparingly  and  of  the  simplest  food,  and  seldom 
tasted  wine  unless  diluted  with  a  much  larger  pro- 
portion of  water.  "  His  pleasure  was  not  in  luxury 
and  self-indulgence,"  says  the  chronicler,  "  but  in 
labor  and  endurance."  ^'^  He  hardened  himself  by 
constant  exercise  and  exposure.  He  excelled  in 
manly  sports  —  in  archery  and  in  throwing  the 
bar.  He  was  seldom  absent  when  the  ch«'»,se  was 
proclaimed  in  the  forest  of  Soignies,  and  delighted 
especially  in  the  dangerous  pastime  of  hunting  the 
wild  boar.  But  on  the  coast  of  Holland,  which 
he  often  visited,  he  found  still  stronger  attractions 
in  the  pursuit  in  which  so  large  a  number  of  the 
inhabitants  were  engaged  —  frequenting  the  ocean 
even  in  the  stormiest  weather,  and  making  himself 
practically  acquainted  with  the  art  of  seamanship 
in  its  minutest  details." 

In  the  ordinary  intercourse  of  society  his  man- 
ners were  courteous  but  reserved.  Pomp  and  state 
he  regarded  as  essential  qualities  of  a  princely  life ; 
but  he  had  little  relish  for  the  gayeties  and  ex- 
cesses of  his  father's  court.  He  shared,  however,  in 
its  more  refined  tastes,  and  took  part  in  its  more 
graceful  recreations.     He  was  a  good  dancer,  and 


m 


— He  mentions  the  fact  as  extraor-  '*  "N'estoit  enclin  k  nulles  mo- 

dinary.  And  see,  to  the  same  effect,  lesses  ne  lascivetcs  :   estoit  tout  k 

Chastellain,  p.  509,  and  Lamarche,  labeur  et  k  dur."    Chastellain,   p. 

("  Jamais  ne  rompit  son  manage :  ny  609. 

ne  le  sceu  oncque  de  luy,  ne  d'assez  "  Lamarche,  tom.  i.  p.  179,  and 

sufHsans  pour  ouir  parler  de  tels  tom.  ii.  pp.  62,  156,  et  al. 
secrets," )  torn.  ii.  p.  157. 


1^1 


fiff 


i 


,  iiiif  j; 


% 


128 


THE  HEIR  OP  BURGUNDY. 


[book  t. 


was  reputed  to  be  the  most  skilful  chess-player  of 
his  time.  For  music  he  had  a  strong  partiality, 
cultivating  the  science,  so  far  as  it  could  be  said 
'to  exist,  and  composing  motets,  chansons,  and  other 
fashionable  strains." 

Though  somewhat  below  the  common  height, 
Charles  had  a  powerful  frame.  His  shoulders  were 
broad  and  full,  his  limbs  muscular  and  firmly  knit. 
He  was  insensible  to  fatigue,  and  wore  his  armor  as 
if  he  had  been  born  in  it.'^  "  I  never  heard  him 
complain  of  weariness,"  says  Philippe  de  Commines, 
"  and  never  saw  in  him  a  sign  of  fear."  ^"    In  coun- 


\i  ^'  h 


"  Idem,  ubi  supra.  —  Chastellain. 

It  may  be  as  well,  at  the  outset, 
to  warn  such  readers  as  have  gath- 
ered their  impressions  of  the  events 
and  personages  of  this  period  from 
the  pages  of  Scott  that  in  none  of 
liis  creations  has  the  great  master 
handled  his  brush  with  so  careless  a 
hand,  and  laid  on  his  colors  with  so 
little  discrimination,  as  in  "  Quentin 
Durward."  Leaving  out  of  view  the 
anachronisms  and  other  deviations 
from  historical  truth,  (which  yet  are 
seldom  defensible,  inasmuch  as  not 
merely  the  facts  of  history,  but  the 
ffcv-tures  of  the  age,  are  thereby  dis- 
torted and  discolored,)  the  portrai- 
tures of  character  are  commonplace 
conceptions  coarsely  executed.  He 
attributes  to  Charles  the  Bold  pre- 
cisely those  vices  from  wliich  he  was 
altogether  frr ;  —  representing  him 
as  a  drunkard  and  a  gross  feeder,  as 
dull  in  his  perceptions  and  vulgar  in 
his  tastes,  as  seasoning  his  phrases 
with  oaths,  and  laughing  boister- 


ously at  any  coarse  jest  or  piece 
of  low  buffoonery.  The  faults  of 
Charles  were  sufficiently  glaring,  and 
scarcely  admitted  of  exaggeration ; 
but  his  breeding  had  been  that  of 
a  prince,  not  of  a  boor,  his  educa- 
tion had  been  better  than  that  of 
other  princes  of  his  time,  his  tastes 
and  habits  were  more,  not  less,  re- 
fined than  theirs,  and  the  '•estraint 
he  imposed  upon  his  sensual  appe- 
tites was  as  conspicuous  a  trait  as 
his  sternness  and  violence. 

'*  "  Estoit  (ce  sembloit)  no  en  fer, 
tant  I'aimoit :  se  delectoit  en  armes 
et  en  champs  floris  de  harnas." 
Chastellain,  p.  509.  — "II  portoit 
crdinairement  [ses  armes]  sans  dis- 
tinction de  temps,  chalereux  ou  froid, 
car  en  I'un  et  en  I'autre  il  trauailloit 
^qualement,  sans  pouuoir  sucqomber 
h.  la  peine."    Gollut,  col.  1313. 

'*  "  Deux  choses  plus  je  dirai  de 
luy :  I'une  est,  que  je  croye  que  ja- 
mais nul  homme  ne  print  plus  de 
travail  que  luy,  en  tons  endroictz  oil 


CHAP.  HI.] 


fflS  CHARACTER. 


129 


tenance  he  bore  little  resemblance  to  his  father  — 
the  fullj  red  mouth  being  the  only  distinctive  feature 
which  they  had  in  common.  His  face  was  round; 
his  complexion  a  transparent  olive,  tinted  with  a 
ruddy  glow.  A  wavy  mass  of  thick,  black  hair 
overhung  his  forehead,  and  flowed  around  his  neck. 
In  walking,  his  looks  were  habitually  directed  to- 
wards the  ground;  but  his  eyes  were  "angelically 
clear,"  their  glances  equally  penetrating  and  ex- 
pressive, and  in  moments  of  excitement  terrible. 
The  tones  of  his  voice  were  agreeable  and  distinct. 
He  was  gifted  with  a  natural  eloquence,  sometimes 
impeded  at  the  outset  by  the  ardor  of  his  temper- 
ament, but  becoming,  as  he  proceeded,  not  less 
logical  than  vehement.^'' 

It  is  hardly  necessary  that  we  should  sketch 
even  the  outlines  of  Charles's  character,  so  plainly 
does  it  reveal  itself  in  the  most  meagre  narrative 
of  his  life.     There  are  no  subtleties  to  be  explored, 


t'tj 


il  fault  exerciter  la  personne  :  I'aul- 
tre,  que  h,  mon  advis  je  ne  congneuz 
oncques  homme  plus  hardy.  Je  ne 
lay  ouys  oncques  dire  qu'il  fust  las, 
ny  ne  luy  veiz  jamais  faire  semblant 
d 'avoir  paour :  et  si  ay  eat6  sept  an- 
nees  de  reng  en  hi  guerre  avec  luy, 
Teste  pour  le  moins,  et  en  au-iunes 
Tyver  et  Teste."  Conunines,  tow.  i. 
p.  51. 

"  ".Portoit  bonnes  jambes  et 
grosses  cuisscs,  longue  main  et  gent 
pied, .  . .  un  peu  grossettes  espaules : 
. . .  avoit  tournure  de  visage  un  peu 
plus  ronde  que  le  pere,  mais  estoit 
de  clair  brun :  avoit  una  yeux  vairs 
VOL,  I.  17 


et  rians,  et  angeliquement  clairs ; . . . 
avoit  la  bouche  du  pere  grossctto  et 
vermeille  :  .  .  .  portoit  un  vif  teint, 
clair  brun,  beau  front  et  noire  che- 
velure  espesse  et  lioussue,  blanc  col 
et  bien  assis,  ei,  en  marchant  regar- 
doit  vers  terre.  .  . .  Avoit  faconde  ; 
telle  fois  fut  en  commencement  de 
sa  raison  empescliiu  a  la  bouter  de- 
liors :  mais  mis  en  train  fut  trfes  elo- 
quent. Avoit  beau  son  et  clair :  .  .  . 
estoit  sage  et  discret  de  son  parler, 
ome  et  compasse  en  ses  raisons 
beaucoup  plus  que  le  p5re."  Chas- 
tellain,  p.  509. 


M 


'ir 


130 


TlIE  lEEIR  OF  BURGUNDY. 


[book  I. 


:i     'i    f  ■ 


no  strange  contradictions  to  be  reconciled.  Fiery 
and  inflexible;  proud,  impatient,  melancholy;  impla- 
cable in  his  enmities,  in  his  judgments  rigorous  but 
just ;  subject  to  gusts  of  i^assion  that  settled  into 
a  sullen  fixedness  of  purpose  by  which  flattery 
and  counsel  were  alike  repelled ;  ever  brooding  on 
the  future  or  battling  stormfully  with  the  present, 
Charles  the  Bold,  the  Rash,  the  Warlike,  the  Terrible, 
(for  all  these  epithets  were  applied  to  him  either 
in  his  lifetime  or  by  the  generation  immediately 
succeeding,)  is  portrayed  on  the  canvas  of  history 
in  lines  and  colors  which  the  feeblest  copyist  can- 
not fail  to  seize.  It  was  thought  by  those  who 
knew  him  in  his  youth,  and  who  were  perhaps  mis- 
led by  his  meditative  habits,  that  he  had  no  strong 
inclination  to  a  military  career.  But  his  first  expe- 
rience in  arms  aroused  a  passion  tliat  was  never 
afterwards  to  slumber.'^  All  the  natural  desires 
of  youth  were  consumed  by  the  intense  flames  of 
his  ambition.  It  is  related  of  him,  at  this  period, 
that  every  night,  after  retiring  to  bed,  he  caused 
one  of  his  attendants  to  read  aloud  some  stirring 
passage  of  ancient  history;  and,  as  he  listened  to 
the  exploits  of  Alexander,  it  may  have  been  that 


»i 


I, : 


■'ii 


'^  Commines  assigns  a  later  date 
—  that  of  the  battle  of  Montlhcry  — 
as  the  period  when  this  passion  was 
first  developed.  —  "  Estoit  tres  inu- 
tile pour  la  guerre  paravant  ce  jour, 
et  n'aymoit  nuUe  chose  qui  y  appar- 
tinst,"  (M^moires,  torn.  i.  p.  50.)  — 
But  Commines  did  not  become  a 


member  of  Charles's  househok^  till 
some  years  after  the  War  of  Ghent, 
in  which,  according  to  other  ac- 
counts, the  ardent  courage  exhibited 
by  the  count  was  not  more  conspic- 
uous than  his  attention  to  military 
discipline. 


CBAP.  III.] 


THE  IIEIR  OF  FR.VNCE. 


131 


he  was  secretly  elated  by  the  recollection  that  he 
too  was  the  son  of  Philip.'" 

In  the  autumn  of  1456,  while  the  duke  was  absent 
in  Holland,  there  arrived  at  the  court  of  Brussels 
a  fugitive  from  France.  This  person  will  occupy 
a  place  in  our  pages  hardly  less  conspicuous  than 
that  of  Charles.  His  character,  however,  will  be 
far  more  difficult  to  depict.  Easy  of  access,  com- 
municative and  familiar,  he  seems  to  invite  us  to 
an  unreserved  intimacy,  and  to  lay  himself  open 
to  our  inspection.  But  so  mobile  are  the  features, 
,so  shifting  and  dubious  is  the  expression,  the!  the 
portrait,  we  may  fear,  will  remain  a  perplexing 
study  to  the  last. 

It  has  been  mentioned  in  a  former  chapter  that 
the  measures  by  which  Charles  the  Seventh  suc- 
ceeded in  restoring  some  degree  of  order  in  his 
dominions  excited  the  discontent  of  many  of  the 
nobles.  The  chief  embarrassment  of  the  insurgents 
arose  out  of  the  difficulty  of  finding  a  leader  of 
sufficient  eminence  to  attract  the  people  to  their 
.standard.      The   duke  of  Burgimdy,  who   had   but 


"  In  the  rude,  but  often  highly 
vigorous,  ballads  which  celebrate  the 
victories  of  the  Swiss  and  their  Al- 
satian allies,  Charles  is  often  taunt- 
ed with  aspiring  to  imitate  the  career 
of  Alexander.     For  example :  — 

*'  So  muKs  man  in  des  grossen  alexanders  le- 

Koud  lesen, 
Als  ob  er  meint  sin  gellchn  wesen." 

Chronik  des  Kaplans  Johannes  Kne- 
bel,  2te  Abth.  s.220,(Bemerkungen.) 
A  more  explicit  and  authoritative 


intimation  to  the  like  effect  occurs 
in  a  letter  written  by  a  Flemish  no- 
bleman in  1473.  "  Hujus  rei  [the 
exploi  1  of  Alexander]  proecipua  ad- 
nuratione,  qui  curas  studiaque  sua 
interius  norunt,  aiunt  ipsimi  teneri." 
Lenglet  du  Fresnoy,  Mdm.  de  Corn- 
mines,  avec  un  Recueil  de  Traites, 
Lettres,  Contrats  et  Instructions, 
(4  vols.  4to.,  Londres,  1747,)  torn, 
iii.  p.  261. 


I 


M 
1*1 

'■:ln;l« 


kv  ii 


M 


132 


THE  HEIR  OF  FRANCE. 


[book  I. 


;!  Ill  (  li; 


i;t 


[1440.] 


lately  made  a  treaty  with  the  king,  declined  to 
give  the  movement  \m  support.  In  this  emergency, 
those  who  had  set  the  entei-prise  on  foot  turned 
their  eyes  upon  the  heir  to  the  crown. 

Louis  had  then  barely  completed  his  sev- 
enteenth year.  His  boyhood  had  been 
very  unlike  that  of  most  princes.  At  the  time  of 
his  birth  his  father  was  living  at  Bourges,  in  the 
condition  of  an  exile  rather  than  in  that  of  a  king. 
So  slender  was  the  appearance  of  royal  state  pre- 
served at  his  court,  that  his  chamber  was  open  at 
all  hours  to  the  meanest  officer  of  his  army.^  While 
his  vassal  the  duke  of  Burgundy  surpassed  the 
greatest  monarchs  in  Europe  in  the  splendor  of  his 
way  of  life,  Charles  the  Seventh  invited  his  captains 
to  a  plain  though  wholesome  dinner,^  consisting  of 
a  leg  of  nmtton  and  a  pair  of  fowls.**'  When  the 
prince  was  christened,  the  funds  in  the  royal  treas- 
ury were  insufficient  to  pay  the  chaplain  his  fee. 
The  wet-nurse,  a  "  poor  woman  of  Bourges,"  received, 
several  years  afterwards,  in  lieu  of  pension,  a  gratu- 
ity of  fifteen  livres ;  ^  and,  when  Louis  had  arrived 
at  an  age  at  which  he  was  entitled  to  a  purse  for 
his  private  pleasures,  his  allowance  was  fixed  at  ten 
crowns  a  month. 

Too  early  an  exposure  to  hardships  and  mortifi- 
cations affects  differently  different  minds  so  far  as 
moral  quaUties  are  concerned.     But  it  seldom  fails 


**  Lamarche,  torn.  i.  p.  286. 

"  Vigiles  de  Charles  VH. 

"  Duclos,  Hist,  de  Louis  XL,  (Am- 


sterdam, 1766,)  tom.  iii.  (Preuves,) 
p.  3.  —  Petitot,  M^m.  de  Commines, 
Introduction. 


CHAF.  111.] 


PRECOCITY  OF  fflS  INTELLECT. 


13.3 


to  stimulate  the  development  of  the  intellectual 
faculties.  Louis,  indeed,  possessed  a  mind  that 
must  have  ripened  early  in  any  atmosphere.  He 
had  an  intuitive  perception  of  his  proper  field  of 
action,  a  happy  confidence  in  his  own  powers,  and 
a  boundless  desire  to  exert  them.  He  was  often 
betrayed  by  the  subtlety  and  nimbleness  of  his 
intellect,  seldom  by  the  vivacity  of  his  passions. 
Of  the  softer  feelings  of  the  heart  he  wa.s  ac- 
quainted with  the  external  signs,  and  his  mustcry 
over  these  became  in  time  one  of  his  most  useful 
accomplishments;  while  he  also  learned,  but  with 
less  facility,  how  foolish  >,  how  dangerous  it  was,  to 
hate.'^ 

At  seventeen,  therefore,  he  was  no  longer  a  boy. 
Three  years  earlier,  at  the  siege  of  Montereau,  he 
h.ad  made  his  first  essay  in  arms ;  and,  in  the  in- 
tervening period,  he  had  been  actively  engaged 
in  assisting  to  exterminate  the  freebooters  who 
were  devastating  the  country.  He  readily  listened 
to  the  overtures  of  the  disaffected  nobles.  He  was 
not  in  the  least  embarrassed  by  scruples  in  regard 
to  making  war  upon  his  father.  He  perfectly 
appreciated  the  propriety  of  his  taking  the  man- 
agement of  affairs  of  state  out  of  the  weak  hands 
of  an  indolent  monarch.  With  his  brisk  intellect, 
his  active  habits,  his  innate  love  of  work,  how  easy 


■'!    iJ 


"  "  Comme  D  se  trouva  grant  el  la  repentance.  Et  repara  cestefoUye 

toy  couronnd,  d'entree  ne  pensa  que  et  ceste  erreur."    Commines,  torn.  i. 

aux  vengeances ;  mais  tost  luy  en  p.  85. 
vint  le  donuDaige,  et  quant  et  quant 


^  ■'!■  *■■■.■ 


ffl 

liffl 

P 

'     ■' 

• 

.  'i 

! 
i           ! 

'       i       'i'i  "■  ■ 

i    !;;■ 

{ fit 

1 

:::l''t 


.' ,  i"i 


illll  ^f! 


i;    'I 


134 


THE  HEIR  OF  FRANCE. 


[book  r. 


would  be  the  task  of  driving  the  remnant  of  the 
English  from  the  country,  and  restoring  the  pristine 
glory  of  France  1  ^* 

But,  keen  as  were  his  instincts,  Louis  was  still 
deficient  in  that  sagacity  which  the  most  happily 
constituted  mind  can  acquire  only  by  experience. 
His  over-eagerness  was  destined  to  lead  him  into 
many  and  serious  difficulties,  from  which  no  mor- 
tal less  dexterous  than  he  could  have  escaped, 
boibre  he  learned  that  most  important  of  all  les- 
sons for  the  aspiring  mind,  to  wait.  Charles  the 
Seventh  had  been  indolent  while  forced  to  submit 
to  the  dictation  of  advisers  whose  incapacity  was 
the  object  of  his  careless  contempt.^"  But  he  was 
now  surrounded  by  ministers  of  his  own  choice, 
and  he  was  prosecuting  enterprises  both  military 
and  political  with  vigor  and  success."  He  scattered 
the  elements  of  the  revolt  before  they  had  time  to 
coalesce.  One  after  another  the  rebellious  nobles 
made  terms  with   the  king,  and  returned  to   their 


'*  Ipse  vero  qui  juvenis  et  ani- 
mosus  foret .  .  .  facile  talibus  incom- 
modis  obviaret . . .  remque  publicam, 
prorsus  dUapsam  atque  prope  ex- 
stinctam,  sua  vigilantia  et  industria 
l)revi  tempore  instauraret,  et  publi- 
cis  ejectis  hostibus,  regnum  ipsura 
ad  priscam  dignitatis  sua>  ac  decoris 
gratiam  atque  opulentiam  revoca- 
ret."    Basin,  torn.  i.  p.  136. 

*^  What  Macaulay  has  said  of 
Charles  II.  of  England  —  that  "  he 
was  a  slave  without  being  a  dupe  " 
—  would  have  been  equally  applica- 
ble, in  his  earlier  days,  to  Charles 


VII.  of  France.  He  submitted  with- 
out the  slightest  expression  pf  an- 
noyance to  the  control  of  persons  for 
whom  he  had  neither  affection  nor 
respect.  "  My  cousin,"  he  said  to 
me  constable  de  Richmont,  —  who, 
when  the  king  demurred  to  an  ap- 
pointment, assured  him  of  the  rare 
talents  and  excellent  qualities  of  the 
person  promoted,  —  "  it  is  you  who 
make  the  appointment,  and  you  will 
repent  of  it :  I  know  him  better  than 
you  do"  —  as  turned  out  to  have 
been  the  case. 


J  *.■■. 


y 


CHAP.  III.] 


HIS  SERVICES  AND  INTRIGUES. 


135 


allegiance.  In  the  course  of  a  few  months  Louis 
was  astonished  at  finding  himself  abandoned  by  all 
save  a  few  of  his  own  followers  —  the  persons  who 
had  been  placed  about  him  by  Charles,  and  who 
had  been  guilty  of  a  double  treason  in  seducing 
the  prince  from  his  duty.  They  had  no  chance  of 
obtaining  mercy  except  through  the  intercession 
of  Louis.  They  sent  him,  therefore,  to  the  king,  to 
solicit  their  pardon  and  his  own.  Charles  accorded 
to  his  son  the  cold  forgiveness  of  one  who  did  not 
choose  to  punish,  but  who  knew  that  a  gracious  and 
generous  reception  would  be  wasted  upon  such  an 
offender.  The  petition  of  Louis  in  behalf  of  his 
adherents  was  rejected  with  disdain.  In  this  case, 
the  prince  said,  he  was  bound  in  honor  to  return 
to  them,  and  share  their  fate.  "  Louis,"  replied  the 
king  with  his  accustomed  sang-froid,  "  you  have  come 
of  your  own  accord ;  you  are  equally  free  to  de- 
part. If  the  gate  be  not  wide  enough  to  afford 
you  a  passage,  I  will  have  fifteen  or  twenty  yards 
of  the  wall  taken  down."^^  Such  an  answer  could 
not  fail  to  make  the  intended  impression  upon  the 
discriminating  mind  of  the  person  to  whom  it  was 
addressed. 

It  was  plain,  however,  that  this  unquiet  spirit 
could  be  kept  in  subjection  only  by  continual  em- 
ployment. He  was  sent  into  Normandy,  where  a 
desultory  warfare  was  then  going  on,  some  of  the 
strong  places  being  still  occupied  by  the  English 
garrisons.    Louis  was  not  endowed  with  that  pecu- 

"  Monstrelet,  torn.  vii.  p.  83. 


v4 


M 


#1 


136 


THE  HEIR  OF  FRANCE. 


[book  I. 


I  i  i  :, 


n^j.ii  /  si'i 


I  i 


liar  combination  of  talents  which  constitutes  the 
genius  of  the  great  commander.  But  his  boldness 
and  alacrity  gave  a  stimulus  to  the  operations  of 
the  French,  which  were  everywhere  crowned  with 
success.  He  was  afterwards  placed  at  the  head  of 
an  army  which  the  king  had  been  induced  by  his 
Austrian  allies  to  send  again  jt  the  Swiss ;  and, 
being  on  this  occasion  signally  assisted  by  fortune, 
he  obtained  a  great  victory,  and  brought  the  cam- 
paign to  a  speedy  as  well  as  glorious  conclusion. 

But  no  sooner  had  he  been  recalled  to  the  court, 
than  he  again  began  to  plot  against  the  sovereign 
whom  he  had  served  with  so  much  zeal  and  efl&- 
ciency.  It  was  impossible  for  him  to  comprehend 
that  insuperable  obstacles  existed  to  his  obtaining 
at  once  the  opportunity  for  which  he  longed  of 
exhibiting  his  ability  to  manage  the  affairs  of  France. 
He  tampered  with  the  fidelity  of  the  Scottish  body- 
guard, and  opened  his  treasonable  projects  to  the 
celebrated  Antony  de  Chabanne,  count  of  Dammar- 
tin,  one  of  the  most  trusted  of  Charles's  captains. 
The  design  of  Louis  was  to  make  himself  master 
of  his  father's  person,  and  to  take  the  government 
into  his  own  hands.  He  spoke  of  his  arrangements 
with  a  coolness  remarkable  in  the  subject,  admira- 
ble in  the  son.  "  I  must  be  on  the  spot  myself," 
he  remarked  to  Dammartin,  "  for  the  others  will 
be  awed  in  the  presence  of  the  king ;  but,  if  I  am 
there  to  direct  them,  all  will  go  well."^''    The  same 


"  "  Se  fera  bien  la  chose,  et  y  veux  €txe  en  personne,  car  chacun 


j,.  ,  |!.;jj 


ersonne,  car  chacun 


CHAP.  III.] 


GOVERNMENT  IN  DAUPHINE. 


137 


tone  of  candor  and  simplicity  marked  the  rest  of 
the  communication,  of  which  the  favored  recipient 
lost  no  time  in  unbm-dening  himself  Several  of 
the  inferior  persons  concerned  in  the  conspiracy 
were  executed.  But  Charles,  though  he  perfe^^tly 
understood  his  son's  character,  and  was  little  dis- 
posed to  be  the  victim  of  his  own  paternal  tender- 
ness, had  not  the  stern  temper  of  a  Philip  the 
Second  or  a  Peter  the  Great.  Instead,  therefore, 
of  putting  the  prince  to  death  or  shutting  him  up 
in  a  prison,  he  committed  to  him. the  government 
of  Dauphine. 

This  province  had  already  been  bestowed  upon 
Louis  as  an  appanage,  and  the  estates  had  granted 
him  a  considerable  yearly  income.  He  was  now 
invested  with  the  administration  of  its  affairs,  sub- 
ject only  to  such  restrictions  as  were  necessary  to 
preserve  the  authority  of  the  crown.  To  these  re- 
strictions he  gave  not  the  slightest  heed.  Dauphin^ 
became  to  him  a  lesser  France,  where  he  exercised 
the  power  and  assumed  the  prerogatives  of  an  inde- 
pendent sovereign.  He  made  wars  and  treaties  with 
his  neighbors ;  and,  like  one  who  having  newly  come 
into  possession  of  a  crown  thinks  it  incumbent  on 
him  to  provide  for  its  peaceful  transmission,  he 
prepared  to  form  a  matrimonial  alliance,  and  offered 
his  hand  to  a  daughter  of  the  duke  of  Savoy. 


cralnt  la  personne  du  Roi  quand  on  roient,  et  en  ma  presence  chacun 

le  voit ;  et  quand  je  n'y  seroye  en  fera  ce  que  je  voudrai,  et  tout  se  fera 

personne,  je  doute  que  le  coeur  ne  bien."    Ddposition  de  Danimartin, 

foillit  k  mes  gens,  quand  ils  le  ver-  Duclos,  torn.  iii.  p.  54. 
VOL.  1,                   18 


%4 


.    ,    y,. 


.  l^ 


i>:S 


M-1.1 


138 


THE  HEIR  OF  FRANCE. 


[book  I. 


ly 


i    m 


Louis  was  already  a  widower.  At  the  age  of 
thirteen  he  had  been  married  to  Margaret  of  Scot- 
land, a  daughter  of  James  the  First.  Thanks  to 
some  "  touches  of  nature,"  which,  in  spite  of  its 
authenticity,  have  ensured  its  frequent  repetition, 
few  passages  in  the  chronique  scandakuse  of  those  times 
are  better  known  than  the  mournful  story  of  this 
young  princess — a  noble  creature,  full  of  intellect, 
enthusiasm,  and  quick  but  generous  impulses ;  loving 
poetry,^^  tales  of  heroism,  and  kindly,  intelligent 
conversation ;  trg,nsplanted  from  her  bleak  northern 
hills  tc  a  warmer  but  less  congenial  soil;  and  ill- 
mated  with  a  boy  man  of  the  world,  precocious  in 
his  keen  perception  of  the  practical  aims  of  life, 
in  his  total  lack  of  gonerous  sentiment,  and  in  his 
power  of  bruising  every  tender  spot  in  those  with 
whom  he  came  in  contact. 

Margaret  was  twelve  years  old  when  brought  to 
France  —  a  year  younger  than  the  dauphin.  She 
lived  only  to  the  age  of  twenty,  beloved,  we  are 
told,  by  both  king  and  queen,  and  worshipped,  as 
we  can  plainly  discern  in  the  documents  relating 
to   her  fate,  by  the   younger  ladies  of  the   court. 


**  It  is  told  of  her,  that,  finding 
Alain  Chartier,  the  poet  and  royal 
secretary,  asleep  in  a  chair,  she 
stooped  and  kissed  his  mouth"  — 
"  for  the  fine  words  that  had  come 
from  it,"  as  she  explained  to  her  as- 
tonished attendants.  Michelet  com- 
plains that  there  is  little  in  Alain's 
poetry  to  prove  him  deserving  of  tlie 
kiss.      Another  anecdote,  not  less 


characteristic,  is  related  of  Margaret. 
At  a  tournament,  she  turned  her 
glance  from  the  more  showy  cavaliers 
to  a  poor  knight  whose  shabby  equip- 
ments served  as  a  foil  to  the  sur- 
rounding splendor,  and  generously 
presented  him  with  three  hundred 
crowns  from  her  own  slenderly  fur- 
nished purse. 


CHAP.  III.] 


MABGARET  OF  SrOTLAND. 


139 


Shortly  before  her  death  venomous  whispers  began 
to  be  breathed  against  her  —  vague  hints  and  in- 
nuendoes, for  which  a  certain  unconventional  but 
innocent  freedom  of  manners,  perhaps  withal,  as 
often  happens  in  such  cases,  the  very  nobleness  of 
her  nature,  furnished  the  incentive  and  the  pretext. 
She  would  sit  up  half  or  all  the  night  making  bal- 
lads and  rondeaiix,  —  an  rmusement  of  which  she 
was  passionately  fond,  —  son:" '  rmes  not  going  to 
bed  "  till  my  lord  the  cLuphin  had  finished  his  first 
two  naps,"  sometimes  even  not  till  dawn.  Jamet  de 
Tillay,  bailiff  of  Vermandois,  who  held  some  post 
in  the  royal  household,  coming  into  her  apartment 
one  evening  "about  nine  o'clock,"  found  her  lying 
on  a  couch,  conversing  with  Messire  de  Blainville, 
who  leaned  upon  the  couch,  and  with  another  gen- 
tleman; neither  torch  nor  candle  burning,  but  "a 
good  fire,"  which  sent  forth  a  cheerful,  though,  as  it 
would  seem,  indecorous,  light.  Her  female  attend- 
ants were  present ;  but  De  Tillay,  shocked  at  this 
violation  of  the  proprieties  in  so  immaculate  a 
court,  rebuked  in  coarse  and  insolent  terms  the 
officer  whose  duty  it  was  to  have  seen  that  lights 
were  provided,  warning  him  of  the  scandal  that 
might  arise  from  such  neglect  —  "Madame  being  a 
foreigner."^ 

So  much  was  acknowledged  by  tlie  slanderer, — 
shooting  his  poisoned  arrow  under  the  pretence  of 
protecting  her  from  slander, — when  questioned,  after 


If  a 


'I'll 


\    :  ] 

'  -  a: 
'-J , 

.'    ■  '  I] 


*»  Interrogatoii-e  de  Jamet  de  Tillay,  Duclos,  torn.  iii.  pp.  34,  47. 


kWll 


140 


THE  HEIR  OF  FRANCE. 


[book  I. 


Margare+'s  death,  as  to  the  language  in  which  he 
had  spoken  of*  her ;  as,  also,  that  he  had,  at  various 
times  and  to  various  persons,  insinuated  the  improba- 
bility of  her  bearing  children.  But  these  expressions 
he  explained  away  as  of  harmless  import ;  and  other 
phrases,  which  admitted  of  no  such  interpretation,  he 
stoutly  denied,  afl&rming  "  on  the  damnation  of  his 
soul"  that  he  had  never  uttered  a  syllable  against 
the  honor  of  the  princess,  and  offering,  if  his  accuser 
were  a  man,  to  support  the  denial  with  his  sword. 
But  the  depositions  of  several  witnesses,  maie  and 
female,  including  the  queen  herself,  established  the 
fact  that  De  Tillay  had  not  only,  in  direct  though 
general  terms,  charged  Margaret  with  looseness  of 
behavior,  but  had  endeavored,  by  an  lago-like 
method,  to  instil  jealous  suspicions  into  the  mind 
of  the  queen.^ 

The  part  played  by  Louis  in  this  obscure  afEiir 
seems  to  have  been  a  purely  negative  one.  He 
does  not,  in  fact,  make  his  appearance  on  the  stage 
at  all.  But  his  shadow  falls  for  a  moment  omi- 
nously on  the  background.     "There  was  no  one  in 


*"  The  queen's  testimony  is  con- 
fined to  a  curious  conversation  she 
had  held  with  De  Tillay  when  the 
court  was  about  removing  from  Cha- 
lons, He  informed  her  that  the 
king  thought  it  best,  »n  account  of 
her  delicate  situation,  that  she  should 
travel  by  slow  stages  ;  that  she  was 
to  set  out  first,  and  the  dauphiness 
was  to  remain  beliind,  and  go  with 
the  king.  All  tliis  was  communi- 
cated in  a  manner  to  suggest  a  dif- 


ferent motive  from  the  one  assigned. 
The  queen,  however,  refrained  from 
exhibiting  any  emotion,  and  agreed 
to  the  proposal  of  De  Tillay  that  she 
should  conform  to  the  arrangement 
without  further  parley,  and  should 
make  her  preparations  for  departure. 
When  she  spoke  to  her  mattre  cPho- 
tel,  he  expressed  his  disbelief  in  the 
statements  of  De  Tillay ;  and  it  was 
found,  on  inquiry,  that  no  such  plan 
had  been  proposed. 


-1  i  aj'ti.  ); 


CHAP,  in.] 


MAKGARET  OF  SCOTLAND. 


141 


the  world  of  whom  she  stood  in  such  dread  as  of 
my  lord  the  dauphin,"  was  Margaret's  remark  to 
one  of  her  ladies/^  when  passionately  complaining 
of  the  speeches  by  which  "  that  valiant  officer,"  as 
she  ironically  called  De  Tillay,  had  endeavored  to 
blast  her  reputation.  She  seems  to  have  regarded 
tills  person  with  mingled  fear  and  abhorrence. 
Going  one  evening  to  recite  her  vespers  in  the 
queen's  oratory,  she  caught  the  sound  of  his  voice 
in  the  chamber,  where  he  was  "  flouting,  as  was  his 
custom,"  with  one  of  the  women,  and  started  back 
as  if  a  snake  had  crossed  her  path.*^ 
In  the  midst  of  her  troubles  Death  came 

n  [1445.J 

beneficently  to  her  relief  She  was  taken 
ill  at  Chalons,  after  walking,  one  hot  day,  from  the 
bishop's  palace,  where  the  court  was  then  sta3dng, 
to  say  her  prayers  in  the  cathedral.  The  physicians 
found  their  medicines  of  no  avail,  and  declared  — 
what  was  evident  enough  to  all  —  that  she  "  had 
some  grief  upon  her  heart,"  and  that  this  and  her 


r 


m . 


A\ 


f 


"  Commines,  writing  moi  than 
alf  a  century  later,  but  receiving 
the  traditions  of  the  French  court 
tlirough  the  purest,  channels,  asserts 
that  Louis  was  married  to  Margaret 
against  his  will  and  never  ceased  to 
feel  regret  while  she  lived.  Memoii  es, 
torn.  ii.  p.  274. 

"  "  Incontinent  elle  s'en  retouma 
tout  court,  sans  dire  mot,  et  s'en 
yssit  dudit  retrait,  et  tantot  elle  qui 
parle  s'en  alia  apr^s  madite  Dame." 
Deposition  de  Jeanne  de  Tasse,  Du- 
clos,  torn.  iiL  p.  21. 


Margaret  inquired  what  De  Tillay 
had  been  talking  about,  and  ex- 
plained her  agitation  by  saying  that 
it  was  he  who  had  endeavored  to 
deprive  her  of  the  favor  of  the  king 
and  of  her  husband.  Some  days 
later  she  told  the  same  witness  that 
"  the  valiant  man  had  begun  to 
shake,"  that  he  had  sent  to  request 
an  interview  with  her  in  order  Jo 
excuse  himself.  "  But  I  know  well," 
she  added,  "  that  he  spoke  the  words, 
and  those  who  reported  them  are 
ready  to  assert  it  before  his  face." 


'%■ 


'!! 


142 


THE  HEIR  OF  FRANCE. 


[book  I. 


1^  i  ■'/  { . 


H 


!ii| 


long  vigils  were  shortening  her  days.  In  her  last 
moments  she  talked  piteously  of  the  wrongs  that 
had  brought  her  to  so  early  a  grave,  and  of  her 
regret  that  she  had  ever  quitted  Scotland.**  Strik- 
ing her  breast,  "  I  take  God  and  my  baptism  to 
witness,"  she  exclaimed,  "that  I  have  never  been 
guilty  of  any  wrong  to  my  lord."  After  her  con- 
fession, one  of  her  ladies  suggested  that  some 
persuasion  should  be  used  to  induce  her  to  say 
that  she  forgave  De  Tillay.  The  priest  remarked 
that  she  had  already  done  so.  "  No,  no,"  she  cried 
out  from  her  bed,  "  I  have  not  forgiven  him ;  I 
have  not  forgiven  him,"  and  continued  to  repeat 
the  same  words  till  told  that,  unless  she  forgave 
every  one,  she  could  not  hope  to  be  herself  for- 
given. "  Well,  then,"  she  said,  "  I  pardon  him,"  and 
added,  "  from  my  heart."  Some  one  endeavored  to 
cheer  her  with  hopes  of  life.  "Fie  upon  life!"  she 
replied;  "talk  to  me  of  it  no  more."^ 

Margaret  was  at  least  fortunate  in  her  early 
death.  And  this  was  also  a  fortunate  event  for 
Louis.  The  contiguity  of  his  dominions  with  those 
of  her  father  rendered  Charlotte  of  Savoy  a  pecu- 
liarly eligible  match  for  him  —  so  obviously  eligible 
that  he  deemed  it  altogether  unnecessary  to  con- 
sult the  king  before  making  his  proposals.     When 


''  Breze,  —  grand  seneschal  of  "  Ah  !  faux  et  mauvois  Bibault,  eUe 

Normandy  and  Poitou,  and  the  ablest  meurt  par  toi ! " 

as  well  as  honestest  of  Charles's  min-  ^*  See  the  depositions  of  the  at- 

isters,  —  who  was  present  and  heard  tendants,  Duclos,  torn.  iii.  pp.  23, 

her,    exclaimed   with    indignation,  28, 30,  && 


i'  ^^1  '.-i 


,  mauvais  Eibault,  elle 


CIIAF.  III'J 


HIS  SECOND  M.UIBIAGE. 


143 


these  had  been  accepted,  and  an  early  day  appointed 
for  the  marriage,  he  gave  notice  to  Charles  of  the 
happy  event  which  was  about  to  take  place,  and 
claimed  his  congratulations. 

Charles,  in  reply,  directed  him  to  break  off  the 
affair.  It  was  his  strongest  wish,  he  wrote,  to  obtain 
for  his  son  the  hand  of  an  English  princess,  as  a 
means  of  cementing  a  peace  between  the  two  king- 
doms, and  he  had  already  entered  into  negotiations 
with  this  object  in  view.  Nonnandy  king-atrarms 
was  also  despatched  with  letters  for  the  duke  of 
Savoy,  expressing  astonishment  at  the  encourage- 
ment given  to  the  dauphin's  suit  before  the  senti- 
ments of  his  father  had  been  ascertained.  Louis 
had  reached  Chambery,  where  the  nuptials  were  to 
be  solemnized,  before  the  arrival  of  the  messenger ; 
and  the  latter  had  no  sooner  dismounted  from  his 
horse  than  he  found  himself  surrounded  by  the 
dauphin's  people,  who  welcomed  him  as  a  country- 
man, provided  him  with  excellent  lodgings,  exhorted 
him  to  "  make  good  cheer,"  and  inquired  the  nature 
)f  his  business.  This  he  declined  to  communicate, 
his  instructions  being  to  deliver  his  despatches  and 
inessfige  to  the  duke  in  person.  It  was  wholly 
impossible,  he  was  told,  that  he  should  be  admitted 
to  an  audience  with  the  duke;  and  a  proposition 
was  kindly  made  that  he  should  go  to  Grenoble, 
and  "spend  four  or  five  days  in  amusing  himself," 
a  promise  being  generously  given  to  defray  all  his 
expenses.  Finding  he  could  do  no  better,  he  con- 
sented at  length,  after  much  wrangling,  to  present 


1  > 


;('■,  ;i ■ 


■  I 'I. 


■•1'  '  J 


''4 


1 1 

■  m 
■  :'■'■ 


k  m 


\*^ 


«  ;  St 


THE  HEIR  OP  FRANCE.  [boox  i. 

his  letters  to  the  chancellor  of  Savoy.  The  next 
morning  he  was  taken  to  a  church,  and  [Mar.  lo, 
seated  in  a  somewhat  obscure  corner,  from  ^^^^-l 
which,  however,  he  contrived  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  the  bridal  train,  and  of  "my  lord  the  dauphin, 
dressed  in  a  long  robe  of  crimson  velvet  trimmed 
with  ermine."  Two  days  later  he  was  sent  back 
to  France,  the  bearer  of  a  letter  from  the  duke 
of  Savoy,  who  lamented  that  he  had  not  received 
the  royal  missivb  until  "  after  the  espousals  had  been 
celebrated  with  all  due  solemnity  and  grandeur."^ 

The  course  pursued  by  Louis  during  the  nine 
years  of  his  government  in  Dauphine  excited  not 
only  the  displeasure  of  the  king,  but  the  murmurs 
of  the  inhabitants.  His  activity,  and  the  excellence 
of  his  intentions,  were  inideniable.  ^He  introduced 
many  reforms  in  the  administrative  and  judicial 
systems,  but  they  were  not  received  with  the  grat- 
itude which  he  had  a  right  to  expect ;  and,  when 
he  proceeded  to  impose  taxes  without  the  previous 
consent  of  the  estates,  that  body  appealed  to  the 
king  to  protect  them  in  the  enjoyment  of  their 
rights.  Charles  perceived  that  his  intervention 
ought  no  longer  to  be  delayed.  He  summoned 
Louis  to  return  to  the  court.  The  prince  was  most 
anxious  to  obey  this  command,  but  represented 
that  he  could  not  do  so  with  safety ;  that  he  had 
reasons  for  believing  that  the  royal  ministers  were 


Uqih 


'*    Proces-verbal  de  Normandie    du  due  de  Savoye  au  Roy ;  Duclos, 
Roi  d'armes  du  voyage  par  lui  fait    torn.  iii.  pp.  68-75. 
par  commandement  du  Roi ;  Lettre 


ii 


CBAF.  III.] 


EXPULSION  FROM  DAUPHIN^. 


145 


The  next 

ind    [Mar.  10, 

a  glimpse 
le  dauphin, 
et  trimmed 
3  sent  back 
a  the   duke 
not  received 
als  had  been 
•andeur.'"* 
ng  the   nine 

excited  not 
the  murmurs 
he  excellence 
le  introduced 

and  judicial 
vith  the  gratr 

;  and,  when 

the  previous 
pealed  to  the 
tnent  of  their 
intervention 

Je  summoned 
cince  was  most 
lit   represented 

;  that  he  had 

ministers  were 

oye  au  Roy;  Duclos, 
fc-75. 


inimical  to  him,  and  were  plotting  his  destruction. 
Charles,  on  the  other  hand,  thought  he  had  a  better 
right  to  complain  that  the  dauphin  was  surrounded 
by  persons  who  encouraged  him  in  his  disobedience. 
He  dismissed  the  envoys  of  Louis  with  a  curt  re- 
sponse. He  would  not  listen  to  empty  assurances. 
It  was  time,  he  declared,  that  this  state  of  things 
•should  end ;  it  had  lasted  too  long.  "  Let  my  son," 
he  said,  "  return  to  his  duty,  and  he  shall  be  treated 
as  a  son.  As  to  the  fears  which  he  professes  to 
liave,  his  security  is  my  word,  which  my  enemies 
have  never  refused  to  accept."'"'  Preceded  by  an 
army,  the  Idng  approached  the  confines  of  Dauphine. 
Louis  was  indefatigable  in  his  efforts  to  avert 
the  impending  blow.  He  despatched  another  em- 
bassy to  Charles,  to  thank  him  for  his  most  gracious 
answer,  and  to  resume  the  negotiations  which  that 
ansAver  had  so  abruptly  closed.  He  invoked  the 
mediation  of  the  pope,  of  the  duke  of  Burgundy, 
of  the  king  of  Castile.  He  invoked  the  interposition 
of  Heaven  by  vows  and  offerings  made  in  his  name 
at  the  most  celebrated  shrines  of  Christendom.^^ 
Finally,  he  prepared  to  make  an  appeal  to  arms. 
He  summoned  the  nobles  of  the  province  to  his 
aid,  and  commanded  the  people  to  retire  with  their 
property  into  the  fortified  towns.  If  his  summons 
were  obeyed,  "he  would  not,"  he  remarked,  "give 

'°  See  the  instructions  of  the  dau-  usual,  with  the  formal  flourishes  of 
phin's  envoy,  Courcillon ;  the  king's  the  official  re'dacteur ;)  and  other  doe- 
verbal  reply,  (the  matter  sufficiently  uments,  Duclos,  torn.  iii.  pp.  81-97. 
characteristic,  but  embellished,  as  ^  Lenglet,  torn.  i.  Preface,  p.  xxx. 

VOL.  1.  19 


m 


,  H^l* 


:  \  )M 
1  ■  'f'- 


.  m 


'J 


•i     uf    »*' 


140 


THE  HEIU  OF  FRANCE. 


[book  I. 


li 


' 


■;,'  r 


^TT;'?- 


« ■;'' 


his  father  the  trouble  of  coming  to  seek  him ;  he 
would  meet  him  at  Lyons."  Meantime  the  count 
of  Dammartin  revived  orders  from  the  king  to 
occupy  Dauphind  with  his  troops,  and  to  secure 
the  person  of  the  prince.  He  encountered  no  re- 
sistance as  he  advanced.  The  inhabitants  every- 
where manifested  their  loyalty  to  their  sovereign, 
and  their  satisfaction  with  the  course  which  he  had 
taken.  On  his  march  he  learned  that  Louis,  whose 
passion  for  the  chase  was  almost  as  ardent  as  his 
passion  for  intrigue,  had  appointed  a  day  for  a 
great  hunt.  Daimnartin  resolved  that  the  hunter 
should  be  taken  in  his  own  toils.  He  laid  his  plans 
accordingly;  but  when  he  arrived  at  the  spot  he 
found  that  the  game  had  escaped  him.''^ 

The  prince  had  mounted  his  hoi*Se  at  the  hour 
assigned ;  but,  as  soon  as  the  greater  number  of  his 
suite  had  taken  their  way  to  the  place  of  rendez- 
vous, he  himself,  accompanied  hy  six  of  liis  attend- 
ants, rode  off  in  an  opposite  direction.  He  crossed 
the  frontiers  of  Dauphine,  traversed  part  of  Savoy, 
and  scarcely  halted  until  he  arrived  at  Saint-Claude, 
a  small  town  in  Franche-Comptd  much  frequented 
by  devotees.  Here  he  was  received  by  the  prince 
of  Orange  and  the  marshal  of  Burgundy.  He  im- 
mediately sent  a  message  to  Philip,  informing  him 
that  he  had  come  to  Saint-Claude  upon  a  pilgrim- 
age. He  then  proceeded  to  write  an  equally 
veracious  letter  to  the  king,  to  acquaint  him  with 

'*  Duclercq,  tom.  ii.  p.  234.  —    uments,  in  Duclos,  torn.  iii.  pp.  100- 
Letter  of  Dammartin,  and  other  doc-    102,  185,  et  seq. 


[book  1. 

him;  he 
the  count 
5   king   to 

to  secure 
red  no  re- 
nts every- 

sovereign, 
ich  he  had 
louis,  whose 
Jent  as  his 

day  for  a 

the  hunter 
lid  his  plans 
■he   spot  he 

at  the   hour 
umber  of  his 
jc  of  rendez- 
f  liis  attend- 
Ile  crossed 
art  of  Savoy, 
Saint-Claude, 
;h  frequented 
jy  the  prince 
ndy.    He  im- 
nforming  him 
)on  a  pilgrim- 
an    equally 
aint  him  with 

los,  tom.iii.  pp-10<^ 


CHAP.  III.] 


ARMVAL  AT  BRUSSELS. 


147 


Ills  reasons  for  this  sudden  journey.  He  had  heard 
that  his  uncle  of  Burgundy  was  preparing  to  set 
out  upon  a  crusade  against  the  Turks ;  and,  as  ho. 
was  himself  bound  by  the  oath  whicli  he  had  taken 
as  "standard-bearer  of  the  Church"  to  aid  in  the 
defence  of  Christendom,  and  had  in  fact  received 
an  express  summons  to  that  effect  "rom  the  pope, 
he  proposed  to  take  part  in  the  intended  enter- 
prise.'"* Having  despatched  this  characteristic  epistle, 
he  resumed  his  journey,  and,  on  the  10th  of  Sep- 
tember, 1456,  arrived  at  Brussels. 

It  was  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  when  he 
entered  the  outer  court  of  the  palace,  to  which  the 
duchess  and  the  countess  of  Charolais  had  descended 
with  their  suite  to  receive  him.  As  soon  as  he 
appeared  these  great  ladies  snatched  their  trains 
from  the  hands  of  the  gentlemen  who  bore  them, 
and  knelt  to  the  ground.  Hastening  forward,  the 
prince  saluted  all  the  fair  faces  present  in  due  suc- 
cession of  rank.  He  then  offered  his  left  arm  to 
Isabella  to  escort  her  into  the  palace.  But,  in  so 
doing,  he  had  assigned  her  the  place  of  honor,  which 
she,  with  her  accustomed  scrupulousness,  declined 
to  accept.  "I  fear  you  mean  to  mock  me,  mon- 
seigneur,"  she  said,  "  in  giving  me  a  preeminence 
to  which  I  am  not  entitled."  "Alas,  madam,"  re- 
plied the  dauphin,  "  you  see  before  you  the  poorest 
man  in  all  the  realm  of  France.  It  well  becomes 
me  to  pay  you  honor,  for  I  know  not  where  to  find 

'"  Lettxe  du  Dauphin  au  Roi,  Duclos,  torn.  ill.  p.  103.        .  . 


m 


\-i% 


148 


THE  HEIR  OF  FRANCE. 


[book  I. 


I 


'r  '' 


■M 


til- 


a  protector  save  in  my  fair  uncle  and  yourself." 
This  contest  of  modesty  lasted  for  more  than  a 
quarter  of  an  hour ;  but  at  length  the  lady,  who 
stood  upon  the  strong  ground  both  of  "  rule  and 
reason,"  carried  her  point.** 

It  was  edifying  to  witness  the  humility  of  this 
heir  to  a  kingdom,  who  had  sought  an  asylum  on 
the  hearthstone  of  the  younger  and  alien  branch 
of  his  family.  When  he  was  informed  that  the 
duke,  who  had  hastened  back  from  Holland  to 
welcome  him,  was  about  to  arrive,  no  persuasions 
could  induce  him  to  remain,  as  etiquette  required, 
in  his  own  apartment.  He  stood  in  the  courtyard 
beside  the  duchess,  and,  as  soon  as  her  lord  entered, 
would  have  rushed  forward  to  embrace  him,  if  she 
had  not  held  him  tightly  by  the  arm  while  Philij 
made  ^'le  "first  two  obeisances."" 

But,  although  the  duke  regarded  it  as  a  matter 
which  concerned  his  own  honor  to  yield  due  rev- 
erence*'^ and   to  afford   his  powerful  protection   to 


J,  J         '     ?       ',.    '!, 


i     ■> 


*"  Honneurs  de  la  Cour,  Saint- 
Palaye,  torn,  iii.  pp.  209,  210. 

The  sense  of  the  passage  is  some- 
what obscure.  Louis  seems  at  first 
to  have  insisted  that  the  duchess 
should  walk  before  him,  while  she 
contended  that  her  place  was  behind. 
M.  de  Barante  supposes  the  right  to 
have  been  the  place  of  honor,  and 
that  it  was  Isabella  who  yielded. 
Basin,  (torn.  i.  p.  228,)  by  whom  he 
was  apparently  misled,  makes  a  sim- 
ilar error.  But  the  person  high- 
est in  Fetation  is  often  mentioned 


as  being  on  the  left,  because  he  had 
on  liis  right  the  person  next  in  rank. 
Had  Louis  placed  the  duchess  on  his 
right  hand,  he  would,  of  course,  have 
been  merely  giving  her  the  prece- 
dence to  which  she  was  entitled  over 
the  other  persons  present,  not  over 
himself.  Her  only  concession  was 
in  taking  his  arm,  and  walking  be- 
side him. 

*'  Idem,  pp.  212,  213. 

*'  "  Car  mondit  Sieur  est  ain6 
fils  de  France,  auquel  mondit  Sieur 
le  Due,  k  ce  moyen,  tant  pour  I'hon- 


[book  I. 

rourself." 

than  a 

idy,  who 

rule  and 

Y  of  this 
gylum  on 
n  branch 

that  the 
olland  to 
ersuasions 

required, 

courtyard  ' 

'd  entered, 

lim,  if  she 

hile  Philil 

a  matter 
due  rev- 
tection  to 


because  he  had 
on  next  in  rank, 
duchess  on  his 
of  course,  have 
her  the  prece- 
as  entitled  over 
•esent,  not  over 
concession  was 
md  walking  be- 

213. 

Sieur  est  ain6 
;1  mondit  Sieur 
tant  pour  I'hon- 


CHAP.  in.] 


KECEPnON  BY  PHILIP. 


149 


'Hhe  eldest  son  of  France,"  the  representative  of 
that  royal  and  illustrious  line  from  which  he  was 
himself  descended,  he  was  not  to  be  entrapped 
into  giving  any  encouragement  to  the  dauphin's 
schemes.  He  listened  with  compassion  to  this  "  des- 
olate prince,"  this  "  prince  who  appeared  before  him 
as  one  ruined,  dejected,  heart-broken,"  "who  had 
come,  so  poorly  attended,  by  dangerous  routes, 
from  a  distant  country,  to  wit,  Dauphin^;"  but 
when  Louis  closed  his  tale  with  a  request  that  his 
fair  uncle  would  assist  him  in  raising  an  army  for 
the  purpose  of  compelling  the  king  to  dismiss  his 
obnoxious  ministers,  Philip  answered,  "  Monseigneur, 
I  am  ready  to  serve  you  with  my  possessions  and 
with  my  body  against  all  the  world,  your  father 
alone  excepted ;  but  for  him,  I  think  him  so  sage 
and  discreet  a  prince,  that  he  knows  well  how  to 
regulate  his  own  household  without  counsel  from 
any  one."** 

He  determined  on  sending  an  embassy  to  the 
king  of  France,  to  justify  his  conduct  and  solicit  a 
pardon  for  the  fugitive.  Louis,  also,  gave  formal 
instructions  to  the  envoys  to  treat  on  liis  behalf. 


near  du  Roi  que  de  sadite  tres-noble 
maison,  dont  il  est  issu,  lui  doit  et 
est  tenu  lui  faire  reverence  et  hon- 
neur."    Duclos,  torn.  iii.  p.  121. 

The  punctilious  respect  paid  to 
Louis  at  the  Burgundian  court  is 
much  commended  by  Basin  and  Ali- 
enor de  Poitiers.  The  duchess  was 
never  served  with  a  cover,  or  had 
the  dishes  tasted  before  her,  in  hi& 


presence.  Philip  always  uncovered 
and  bent  the  knee  when  addressing 
him,  and,  when  riding  behind  him, 
would  not,  on  any  account,  have 
"  suffered  his  horse's  head  to  cross 
the  tail  of  the  dauphin's." 

*^  Ce  que  les  Ambassadeurs  de 
Monsieur  le  Due  dirent  au  Roi,  Du- 
clos,  torn.  iii.  p.  122.  —  De  Coussy, 
torn.  ii.  p.  275. 


7i» 


W 


I    :;13 


150 


THE  HEIR  OF  FRANCE. 


[book  I. 


"Although  he  had  not  done,  but  had  received, 
wrong,"  yet,  as  "  there  was  no  possible  thing  which 
he  was  not  willing  to  perform  in  order  to  obtain 
his  father's  grace,"  he  consented  to  ask  his  for- 
giveness, provided  the  king  would  reinstate  him  in 
his  government,  grant  him  a  pension,  and  be  pleased 
to  pledge  his  royal  word  that  he  would  undertake 
nothing  against  him  or  any  of  his  servants.**  But, 
while  he  gave  this  remarkable  proof  of  a  contrite 
spirit,  he  did  not  omit  to  send  forth  an  edict  as 
dauphin,  forbidding  his  subjects  to  render  obedience 
to  the  person  to  whom,  at  his  departure,  he  had 
committed  the  government,  and  who,  as  he  heard, 
was  exercising  authority  in  "  another  name  than 
his."«  ,    . 

The  king  returned  the  same  answer  as  before  to 
the  demands  which  Louis  clothed  in  the  language 
of  concession.  He  was  ready  to  restore  his  son  to 
favor  whenever  the  prince  should  show  by  his  acts 
that  he  desired  to  obtain  it.  But  he  soon  ceased 
to  indulge  in  the  expectation  that  his  offers  would 
have  any  effect.  "  Louis,"  he  remarked,  "  has  a  sus- 
picious nature  ;  it  will  be  long  before  he  returns 
to  Frcance.  As  for  my  cousin  of  Burgundy,  he  has 
given  shelter  to  a  fox  that  will  one  day  devour  his 
chickens."*" 

As    Oharles   would   neither   restore    him    to    his 


**  These  propoaitions  are  entitled  **  Lettres'de  Louis  Dauphin,  Du- 

"  EfTet  des   choses  de   quel  Men-  clos,  torn.  iii.  p.  132,  et  seq. 

seigneur  sc  contenteroit"     Duclos,  *"  De  Cousay,  torn.  i.  p.  2N.  — 

torn.  iii.  p.  129.  Petitot,  Introduction  to  Commines. 


CHAP.  III.] 


MODE  OF  LIFE  AT  GENAPPE. 


151 


fonner  post  nor  grant  him  a  pension,  the  dauphin 
was  fain  to  be  beholden  to  his  fair  uncle  not  only 
for  protection,  but  lor  the  means  of  living.  Philip 
assigned  him  the  castle  of  Genappe,  in  the  neigh- 
})orhood  of  Brussels,  as  a  residence,  and  allowed  him 
three  thousand  francs  a  month  for  his  support.  He 
had  been  joined  by  the  dauphiness,  as  well  as  by 
many  of  his  adherents,  whom  he  had  perhaps  hoped 
to  get  rid  of  by  his  precipitate  and  secret  flight,  but 
whose  regard  for  their  own  safety  did  not  permit 
them  to  remain  behind.  It  was  no  easy  matter  for 
him,  out  of  Philip's  bounty,  to  defray  the  expenses* 
of  such  an  establishment.*''  He  was  compelled  to 
have  recourse  to  the  usual  shifts  of  persons  in  re- 
duced circumstonces  —  to  sell  or  pawn  such  articles 
of  value  as  he  had  brought  with  him  to  the  Neth- 
erlands. Yet  he  bore  his  misfortunes  with  a  charm- 
ing equanimity  and  even  cheerfulness  of  spirit. 
His  only  disquietude  arose  from  the  reflection  that 
he  had  incurred  his  father's  displeasure,  by  which, 
in  spite  of  his  conscious  innocence,  he  was,  as  Philip 
wrote  to  the  king,  "marvellously  cast  down."  His 
affability  and  good-nature  gained  him  a  host  of 
friends  at  the  Burgundian  court.  He  was  on  the 
best  terms  with  every  one  —  with  the  duke's  favor- 
ites, as  well  as  with  their  mortal  enemy,  the  duke's 
son.  The  situation  of  Genappe,  on  the  verge  of  an 
extensive   forest,  furnished   ample   facilities   for  his 

"  In  addition,  however,  to  the  al-  of  his  household  had  pensions  set- 
lowunce  to  the  dauphin  mentioned  tied  upon  them  by  Philip.  Gachard, 
ill  the  text,  the  principal  members    note  to  Barante,  torn.  ii.  149. 


ll 


^  m  'I 


i  ■'*■ 


?    0 


■  If 


■<l. 


<US 


T-i 


tm 


\  f 


hi  ' 


152 


THE  HEIR  OF  FRANCE. 


[book  I. 


favorite  recreation.  He  gathered  around  him  a  little 
society  composed  not  merely  of  noblemen,  but  of 
men  of  learning  and  science/*  and  amused  himself 
at  table  by  calling  upon  each  of  his  guests  in  turn 
to  relate  a  merry  tale.  Many  of  these  stories  were, 
at  a  later  period,  collected  and  published  under  the 
title  of  "  The  Hundred  New  Tales,"  and  are  still  occa- 
sionally reprinted.  The  feverish  love  of  power  that 
had  so  long  possessed  him  seemed  to  have  entirely 
subsided.  To  adorn  a  private  station  had  evidently 
become  the  highest  object  of  his  ambition.  His 
attention  to  the  minor  duties  of  society  was  ex- 
emplary and  engaging.  The  countess  of  Charolais 
[Feb.  having  given  birth  to  a  daughter,  Louis 
1457.]  officiated  as  the  godfather.  He  supported  the 
child's  head,  and  bestowed  upon  her- the  name  of 
Mary,  "from  his  love  for  his  mother,  the  queen 
of  France,"  and  with  tender  recollections,  we  may 
surmise,  of  his  own  happy  and  docile  childhood.** 
How  ridiculous  to  suppose  that  this  amiable  prince, 
this  pattern  of  the  domestic  virtues,  this  frank  and 
social  companion,  had  a  brain  full  of  intrigues  and 
conspiracies  —  that  he  was  a  "  dangerous  person," 
in  conversing  with  whom  it  were  well  to  be  on 
one'*!  guard,  in  feasting  with  whom  it  were  best  to 
be  provided  with  a  spoon  of  much  more  than  the 
ordinary  length! 
Above  all,  it  was  deUghtful  to  witness  the  efiusions 

**  Naude,  .  iddition  h  I'Hist.  de        ''*  Duclercq,  torn.  ii.  p.  240.  — 
Louis  XL,  Lenglet,  torn.  iv.  p.  276.    Honneurs  de  la  Conr. 


CHAP.  HI.] 


HIS  GRATTTTDE  AND  PIETY. 


153 


of  liis  gratitude.  Doubtless  the  connection  was  as 
flattering  to  Philip's  pride  as  it  was  gratifying  to 
his  generosity.^"  Nor  was  he,  perhaps,  insensible  to 
the  advantages  to  be  derived  from  it.  As  long  as 
he  had  the  heir  to  the  crown  in  his  keeping,  he 
might  expect  that  the  king  would  be  very  cau- 
tious of  affording  him  any  pretext  for  complaint. 
He  might  look  forward  to  a  time  when  a  new 
king,  indebted  for  his  crown  and  even  for  his  life 
to  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  would  gratefully  accept 
him  as  his  counsellor  and  guide,  and  seize  the 
opportunity  of  making  a  solid  return  for  the  favors 
which  he  had  received.  That  he  had  good  right 
to  count  upon  such  a  return  was  evident  from  the 
warmth  of  the  dauphin's  protestations.  Louis,  so 
unfortunate  in  the  closer  ties  of  nature  and  of 
blood,  had  found  in  his  protector  a  real  parent, 
and  was  never  so  happy  as  when  an  occasion  of- 
fered for  displaying  his  more  than  filial  reverence 
and  affection.  During  his  residence  at  Genappe 
the  dauphiness  presented  him  .with  a  son.  He  no- 
tified this  event  to  the  king  in  a  letter  full  of 
piety  and  gratitude,  and  to  the  archbishop  and 
municipal  authorities  of  Paris  by  a  circular  in 
which  he  desired  that  It  should  be  celebrated  with 
the  usual  procession  and  Te  Deum.  Charles,  in  reply, 
expressed'  his  satisfaction,  though  in  terms  some- 
what scant  for  the  occasion,  and  pointedly  reminded 

1       -■  ■ ' 

'"  Reiffenberg  makes  some  perti-    Mdm.  sur  le  sdjour  que  Louis  Dau- 
nent  remarks  on  this  point  in  his    pbin  fit  aux  Pays-baa. 


1  V. 


m.n 


;.4f 


\l 


VOL.  I. 


20 


154 


PHILIP'S  DOMESTIC  TROUBLES. 


[book  I. 


Louis  that  he  would  best  evince  his  thankfuhiess  to 
his  Creator  by  observing  his  commandments."'  Very 
different  was  the  manner  in  Wiiich  PhiHp  received 
the  ainiouncement.  He  presented  the  messenger 
with  a  thousand  gold  pieces.  He  ordered  public 
rejoicings  to  be  made  in  all  the  towns  in  his  do- 
minions. No  circumstance  of  pomp  was  wanting  at 
the  baptism.  The  duke  was  himself  one  of  the 
sponsors,  and  his  customary  munificence  displayed 
itself  in  the  most  costly  gifts  to  the  infant  prince  as 
well  as  to  the  parents.  When  the  ceremony  was 
concluded,  Louis,  with  head  uncovered,  expressed 
his  thanks.  "  Dearest  uncle,"  he  said,  "  it  is  impos- 
sible I  should  ever  be  able  to  requite  the  honor 
you  have  done  me  except  by  dedicating  to  your 
service  myself,  my  wife,  and  my  child."  Every  one 
present  was  affected  to  tears  by  the  warmth  of 
emotion  thus  displayed.*^^ 


1  r. 


p  J 


The  count  of  Charolais  was  not,  perhaps,  such  a 
person  as  Louis  would  have  selected  for  the  com- 
panion of  his  leisure.  It  is  probable,  in  fact,  that 
the  dauphin  —  himself  so  sociable  and  full  of  play- 
ful vivacity  —  looked  with  secret  aversion  at  his 
stern  cousin,  who  drank  no  wine,  and  had  no  jest, 
no    niquant    story,  to    contribute    to   the    common 


'•  "  Nous  semble  bien  que  de  tant  complir  ses  commandemens."    Du- 

que  Dieu  notre  Createurvous  donne  clos,  torn.  iii.  p.  152. 
plus  de  graces,  de  tant  plus  le  devez        **  Duclercq,  torn,  ii.  pp.  354,  355. 

louer   ei,  mercier,  et  gaitler  de  le  — The  rejoicings  were  premature,  hs 

couroucer,  et  en  toutea  cboues  ac-  the  cliild  lived  only  a  few  months. 


oHAFi  nx.] 


THE  CROYS. 


155 


stock."  Yet  there  are  circumstances  which  might 
tempt  us  to  believe  that  their  intercourse  was 
more  frequent  than  would  be  inferred  from  the 
contrariety  of  their  dispositions  or  the  direct  state- 
ments of  the  chroniclers.  Opposed  as  were  their 
characters  in  all  other  respects,  there  was  one  point 
of  resemblance  between  them.  Charles,  like  Louis, 
was  impatient  to  handle  the  reins  of  government ; 
he  too,  though  with  better  reason,  complained  of 
the  laxity  of  his  father's  administration ;  he  too  re- 
garded his  father's  ministers  as  his  natural  enemies, 
and  as  obstacles  in  the  way  of  his  ambition. 

Philip  the  Good  possessed  a  will  which  no  prudent 
person  would  have  ventured  openly  to  thwart.  But 
he  had  not  the  self-relying  resoluteness  of  his  son. 
Fierce  in  his  anger,  and  obstinate  when  opposed, 
he  was  yet  open  to  the  influence  of  those  who 
understood  his  character,  and  who  knew  how  to 
adapt  themselves  to  his  humor.  Antony  and  John 
de  Croy,  members  of  a  family  wliich,  three  genera- 
tions back,  had  occupied  the  position  of  wealthy 
and  respectable  burghers  at  Amiens,  but  which 
traced  its  desv.'^nt,  at  least  to  its  own  satisfaction, 
from  the  royal  house  of  Hungary,  had  risen  to  pre- 
eminence among  the  nobles  of  the  Burgundian 
states  and  in  the  counsels  of  the  sovereign.  Their 
grandfather   had    owed    his  patent   of  nobility  to 


"  In  the  "  Cent  Nouvelles  Nou-  courtiers.     None  of  the  stories  is  at- 

velles  "  the  names  of  the  narrators  tributed  to  the  count  of  Charolais, 

are  given,  inchiding  those   of  the  though  he  is  mentioned  as  an  au- 

dauphin,  the  duke,  and  many  of  the  ditor. 


.1'  '. 

."ii; 


i 


ill  ;i 


■  '  if 


t:i 


m  '* 


::rt,i 


1\ 


1  ,1  i'J 


156 


PHILIP'S  DOMESTIC  TROUBLES. 


[book  I. 


'  I    i; 


»  :« 


the  purchase  of  an  estate.  Their  father  had  been 
concerned  in  the  assassination  of  the  duke  of 
Orleans  ;  their  sister  had  been  the  mistress  of 
John  th  Foarless."^  The  elder  brother,  though 
c*  1  ii(V  'bly  older  than  Philip,  had  been  the  corn- 
pa:*- >;-.  '--'^  confidant  of  his  boyhood.  He  now  held 
the  ^.^st  L^  first  chamberlain,  the  highest  m  the 
ducal  househoi.l.  He  was  governor  of  Namur,  of 
Luxembourg,  and  of  Limbourg.  He  held,  besides, 
many  other  lucrative  but  less  important  offices; 
and  pensions  and  estates  had  been  bestowed  upon 
him  without  stint.  John  de  Croy,  count  of  Chimay, 
was  captain-general  and  grand-bailiflf  of  HainaiUt.*' 
Thus  the  two  brothers  exercised  direct  authority 
over  all  itie  southern  Netherlands;  the  avenues  to 
promotion  were  blocked  up  by  their"  relatives  and 
dependents ;  wliile  such  was  the  ascendancy  which 


f 


5  3/" 


'*  Modern  Belgian  historians  sel- 
dom intimate  an  opinion  relative  to 
the  claims  of  this  family  to  royal  de- 
scent, which,  however,  have  formed 
a  subject  of  public  controversy,  and 
even  of  judicial  investigation,  in  the 
present  century  —  the  right  of  its 
existing  representatives  to  quarter 
the  arms  of  Hungary  having  been 
contested  by  M.  de  Crouy-Chanel, 
whose  own  pretensions  to  this  honor 
seem  to  be  established.  This  gen- 
tleman, in  an  erudite  but  somewhat 
passionate  article,  i)ublished  in  1835 
in  the  "  Drapeau-blanc,"  recites  the 
facts  noticed  in  the  text,  and  adds, 
with  sufficient  emjihasis,  "  Such  is 
the  origin  of  the  noble  family  of  the 
Croys  of  Amiens. ...  This  is  the 


Jir.it  mention  of  their  names  to  be 
found  in  history.  .  .  •  Here  is  the 
source  of  the  earliest  Jionors  be- 
stowed upon  them."  He  derives 
their  attempt  to  confound  their  an- 
cestry with  that  of  the  veritable 
Hungarian  Croys  from  their  having 
obtained  the  grant  of  an  estate  be- 
longing to  the  latter  family ;  which, 
he  remarks,  is  much  the  same  as  if 
a  member  of  the  bande  noire,  after 
getting  possession  of  a  castle  of  the 
Montraorencies,  should  assume  the 
arms  of  that  illustrious  house. 

^*  The  grants  and  offices  held  by 
the  different  members  of  the  family 
are  enumerated  by  Gachard  in  his 
Notice  des  Archives  de  M.  le  Due 
de  Caraman. 


[book  I. 

tad  been 
iuke    of 
itress   of 
,   though 
the  com- 
now  held 
3t  ill  the 
famur,  of 
1,  besides, 
it   offices; 
wed  upon 
.f  Chimay, 
Hainaidt.*' 
authority 
Livenues  to 
atives  and 
incy  which 

sir  names  to  be 
.  Here  is  the 
est  honors  be- 
"     He   derives 
[found  their  an- 
the   veritable 
|om  their  having 
)f  an  estate  bc- 
family;  wluch, 
the  same  as  if 
inde  noire,  after 
)f  a  castle  of  the 
mid  assume  the 
[ou8  house. 
.  offices  held  by 
.rs  of  the  family 
Gachard  in  his 
!S  de  M.  le  Dut 


OBAF.  III.] 


TIIE  CROYS. 


157 


they  had  gradually  obtained  over  PhiUp's  mind, 
that,  while  he  still  imagined  himself  the  greatest 
and  most  powerful  of  princes,  the  government  had 
been  virtually  surrendered  into  their  hands.  , 

They  had  not,  however,  escaped  the  usual  respon- 
sibilities and  penalties  of  power  thus  obtained.  All 
the  disorders  of  the  political  system,  whether  local  or 
general, — the  prevalence  of  crime,  the  in'jfficiency  o'' 
the  laws,  the  negligence  and  corruption  which  dur- 
ing the  latter  years  of  Philip's  reign  had  crept  r./^ 
every  branch  of  the  administration,^  —  were  J^i-'i- 
larly  charged  upon  the  Croys.  If  any  one  breathed  u 
murmur  against  the  good  duke, "Lay  not  the  bl  f",' 
it  was  answered,  "on  that  noble  old  man,  but  on  those 
who  have  abused  his  confidence,  and  have  basely 
taken  advantage  of  the  openness  and  generosity  of 
his  nature."  °''  By  the  great  body  of  the  nobility  the 
Croys  were  regarded  as  upstarts,  indebted  for  their 
elevation  to  arts  which  high-born  men  disdain  to 
practise.  Foremost  among  the  malecontents  was  the 
count  of  Saint-Pol,  "  the  wealthiest  count  in  France," 
who  was  allied  by  blood  or  marriage  with  most  of 


°'  "  Ce  qui  toumoit  k  grand  playe 
h  ses  pays  et  subjects,  en  faict  de 
justice,  en  faict  de  finances,  en  faict 
de  marchandises,  et  en  faict  de  di- 
vLTses  iniquitds."  Chastellain,  p.  506. 
—  The  pages  of  Duclercq,  whose  no- 
tices of  the  remarkable  occurrences 
of  his  time  are  not  confined  to  camps 
and  courts,  fiirnish  ample  confirma- 
tion of  this  statement. 

*'  Chastellain  considers  this  point 
with  an  impartiality  the  more  lauda- 


ble that  his  own  veneration  for  his 
master  falls  little  short  of  idolatrj-. 
He  states  the  facts,  offiers  the  excuse, 
admits  its  insuHiciency,  —  "  since  it 
behoves  a  prince  to  have  personal 
knowledge  of  all  his  affairs,"  —  but, 
on  the  further  plea  of  Philip's  fail- 
ing years,  concludes  by  leaving  the 
reproach  upon  his  advisers.  "  Ergo, 
la  malice  est  devers  eux ;  et  I'excuse 
devers  le  noble  viellart."  (Euvres, 
loc.  cit. 


'.HI 


•,\ 


\   1 


lid 


■Ji 


158 


PHIUP'S  DOMESTIC  TROUBLES. 


[boor  I. 


11 


t 


■!i     i 


f ..   W':   1   ' 


i  isi  111 


the  reigning  families  of  Christendom,  -whose  vast 
possessions  gave  him  an  almost  unlimited  sway  in 
a  region  where  the  family  of  Croy  had  followed 
the  ignoble  pursuits  of  industry  or  filled  the  petty 
offices  of  a  municipal  magistracy,  and  whose  haughty 
spirit  not  only  rejected  with  disdain  the  advances 
made  to  him  by  men  so  inferior  in  origin,  but  was 
secretly  chafed  by  his  dependence  as  a  vassal  on 
the  protection  of  the  Burgundian  sovereign. 

But  the  brothers  were  now  to  encounter  a  still 
more  formidable  rivalry  than  that  of  Saint-Pol. 
Others  might  envy  their  sudden  rise,  the  honors 
and  wealth  they  had  accumulated,  their  monopoly 
of  favors  which  might  properly  have  been  distrib- 
uted among  many  claimants.  But  it  was  not  for 
such  things  as  these  that  they  were  envied  by 
their  master's  son.  These  he  did  not  want ;  to 
these  he  had  no  claim.  His  rivalry  extended  to 
that  influence  of  which  these  were  menly  the  ex- 
ternal indications.  He  detested  the  Croys  for  their 
usurpation  of  a  power  to  which,  if  it  were  to  be 
delegated  at  all,  he  himself,  and  he  alone,  could 
rightfully  aspire. 

The  first  intimation  of  this  feeling,  the  intensity 
of  which  was  as  yet  little  suspected  by  the  objects 
of  it,  is  of  a  somewhat  doubtful  date,  but  belongs 
to  the  period  of  the  dauphin's  residence  in  the 
Netherlands,  probably  to  the  winter  following  his 
arrival.  Saint-Pol  made  his  appearance  at  the 
French  court  in  the  character,  according  to  his 
own  account,  —  for  he  bore    no    credentials,  —  of 


".z!; 


CHAF.  III.] 


DISCONTENT  OF  IHS  SON. 


150 


an  authorized  agent  of  the  Burgundian  heir.  He 
disclosed  a  project  fonncd  by  the  latter  for  forci- 
bly dispossessing  the  Croys  of  their  authority,  and 
driving  them  from  the  court.  No  further  restraint 
was  to  be  imposed  upon  Philip  than  what  must  be 
implied  in  the  expulsion  of  the  favorites.  His  re- 
sentment, however,  might  be  expected  to  be  violent, 
whatever  were  the  result  of  the  attempt ;  and  Saint- 
Pol  was  instructed  to  inquire  whether  the  count 
of  Charolais,  if  compelled  to  abandon  his  father's 
dominions,  might  look  for  protection  in  France,  and 
for  military  employment  and  command.''^  The  king 
gave  a  civil  but  evasive  reply.  Besides  his  aver- 
sion to  violence,  Avhich  he  intimated  in  his  answer, 
he  was  not  without  suspicions  as  to  the  sincerity 
of  the  proposal.  He  fancied,  perhaps,  that  it  bore 
the  marks  of  a  familiar  hand.  The  project  was 
dropped.  Had  it  been  carried  out,  the  curious 
spectacle  would  have  been  presented  of  the  heirs 
of  two  great  sovereignties  living  as  exiles,  each  in 
the  dominions  to  be  one  day  inherited  by  the  other. 
In  this  case  Charles  the  Seventh,  if  he  had  deemed 
it  consonant  with  his  honor,  might  have  proposed 
exchange.      But    the    coincidence   would   have 


an 


been  less  surprising  in  reality  than  in  appearance. 
For  the  details  of  his  scheme  the  count  w^as  obvi- 
ously indebted,  if  not  to  the  private  suggestions,  at 
least  to  the  open  example,  qf  the  dauphin. 


r  ',- 


I 


■II- 


ir 


9>|lj 


**  The  only  account  of  this  affair  dently  by  a  member  of  the  royal 
is  given  in  a  letter,  without  date,  sig-  council  for  the  information  of  a  party 
nature,  or  address,  but  written  evi-    interested,  probably  the  sire  de  Croy> 


■•J:  ■ 


:;.:>& 


160 


PHILIP  S  DOMESTIC  TROUBLES. 


[nooK  t. 


■•\>'M 


But,  while  there  was  a  strong  similarity  in  the 
situations  and  conduct  of  these  two  princes,  whose 
fortunes  were  henceforth  to  be  mutually  involved, 
the  contrast  of  character  was  not  the  less  apparent. 
In  one  it  was  the  absence  of  feeling,  in  the  other 
its  violent  extremes,  that  formed  the  distinguishing 
trait.  Louis  had  pursued  the  career  of  rebellion, 
if  not  with  success,  at  least  with  a  matchless  facility, 
because  he  had  none  but  external  obstacles  to 
contend  with.  Charles  had  to  struggle  against  the 
common  prejudices  of  nature  —  against  weaknesses 
from  which  Louis  was  altogether  exempt.  After  one 
of  those  stormy  conflicts  which  had  now  become 
of  frequent  occurrence  between  the  father  and  son, 
Charles  was  subject  to  fits  of  compunction ;  and  he, 
who  so  seldom  yielded  to  the  wishes  or  entreaties 
of  others,  su])mitted  without  further  demur  to  the 
commands  of  Philip. 

A  scene  of  this  kind  will  illustrate  the  characters 
of  all  the  parties  concerned.  The  count  of  Charolais 
had  been  ordered  to  confer  a  vacant  post  in  his 
household  on  a  son  of  John  de  Croy.  Instead  of 
complying,  he  issued  an  "  ordina:  ce "  appointing 
another  person.  Philip  sent  for  him  into  his  ora- 
tory, directing  that  he  should  bring  with  him  this 
paper,  which,  as  soon  as  he  had  entered,  his  father 
took  from  his  hand  and  threw  into  the  fire,  bid- 
ding him  draw  up  auiother,  of  a  different  tenor.**^ 
The  count  ansAvered  with  a  direct   refusal.     "You 


*'  "  Dit  h,  son  fils, '  Or  allez  querre    de  nouvelles.' "    Lomarche,  torn.  ii. 
Tos  ordonnances :  car  U  vous  en  faut    p.  224. 


[book  t. 

in  the 
8,  whose 
involved, 
ipparent. 
he  other 
iguishing 
rebellion, 
^8  facility, 
blades   to 
rainst  the 
weaknesses 
After  one 
w  become 
r  and  son, 
i;  and  he, 

entreaties 
nur  to  the 

characters 
>f  Charolais 
)0st  in  his 
Instead  of 
appointing 
ito  his  ora- 
;h  him  this 
,his  father 
le  fire,  bid- 
•ent  tenor."® 
Lisal.    "You 

aarche,  torn.  ii. 


CHAP.  HI.] 


A  FAIHLY  QUARREL. 


161 


may,  if  you  please,"  he  exclaimed,  "make  these 
Croys  your  masters ;  hut  they  shall  never  be  mine." 
A  lighter  provocation  would  have  sufficed  to  throw 
Philip  into  an  ecstasy  of  rage.  He  commanded 
Cliarle.s  to  depart  from  liis  dominions,  and,  drawing 
his  dagger,  rushed  towards  him  with  menacing  ges- 
tures."" The  duchess  —  who,  anticipating  an  out- 
burst which  she  hoped  to  allay,  was  present  at  the 
meeting — interposed  to  protect  her  son,  and  followed 
him  from  the  apartment.  This  very  natural  pro- 
ceeding was  regarded  by  her  husband  as  an  inexpi- 
able offence.  Beside  himself  with  passion,  he  hastily 
descended  the  stairs,  and,  calling  for  his  horse,  rode 
unattended  through  the  park  into  the  adjoining 
Forest  of  Soignies. 

It  was  the  month  of  January.  A  violent  hail-storm 
had  been  succeeded  by  a  not  less  violent  rain.  But, 
heedless  of  the  tempest,  of  the  approaching  night,  and 
of  the  direction  in  which  he  went,  thp  duke  gallopped 
furiously  along,  until  his  progress  was  impeded  by 
the  thickness  of  the  woods.  His  mind  was  haunted 
with  gloomy  but  vague  reflections,  and  with  projects 
worthy  of  a  truant  school-boy.  He  would  abdicate 
liis  power,  withdraw  from  the  Netherlands,  and  spend 
the  remaindfc  ••  of  his  days  in  some  wild  and  secluded 
part  of  Burgundy.  Meanwhile  his  present  situation 
had  become  a  perilous  one.  He  was  compelled  to 
dismount,  and  force  his  way  on  foot  through  bram- 
bles and   underbrush.    His  face   and   hands  were 


VOL.  I. 


^  Dudercq,  torn.  iii.  p.  238. 
21 


1 4 


II' 


m 


V',:' 


i^jfcj  it  ■ 


'^^ 


162 


PHILIP'S  DOMESTIC  TROUBLES. 


[book  1. 


covered  with  blood.  It  was  long  after  midnight 
whea  he  discovered  the  fire  of  a  charcoal-burner, 
by  whom  he  was  guided  to  the  lonely  hut  of  a 
huntsman  or  forester  Here  hj  found  shelter  and 
warmth,  and  was  made  welcome  to  such  refreshment 
as  his  host  was  able  to  provide.  While  eating  his 
meagre  supper  the  unknown  guest  was  edified  by 
a  description  of  his  companion's  pursuits,  and  by 
his  philosophical  and  pertinent  assurances  of  the 
happiness  attendant  on  a  life  of  solitude  and  pov- 
erty. In  the  morning  the  duke  was  conducted  to 
Genappe,  whence  tidings  of  his  safety  were  speedily 
transmitted  to  Brussels.''^ 

At  the  palace  the  night  had,  of  course,  been 
passed  in  the  greatest  disorder  and  anxiety.  From 
hour  to  hour  fresh  messengers  hadJ^een  sent  out; 
but  such  information  as  they  brought  back  served 
only  to  increase  the  alarm.  The  dauphin  arrived, 
to  console  with ,  the  afflicted  household.  But  his 
sympathies  were  so  acute,  that,  far  from  being  com- 
petent to  the  task,  he  was  under  the  necessity  of 
accepting  comfort  from  those  who  had  a  still  nearer 
cause  for  grief  He  took  the  whole  blame  of  the 
affair  upon  himself.  It  was  his  unhappy  fate,  he 
explained,  that  wherever  he  went  his  presence  was 
sure  to  bring  misfortune  —  even  among  those  whom 
he  most  loved.  At  length  the  announcement  came 
that  the  duke  was  on  his  way  home.  After  the 
first  moments  of  relief  and  satisfaction,  the  duchess 


*'  Lamarche. — Duclercq. — Chas-    b}' Kervyn  de  Letterhove,  Hist  de 
tellain,  unpablished  fragment,  cited    Flandre. 


[book  I. 

midniglit 
il-burner, 
hut  of  a 
elter  and 
Ereshiiient 
mating  Ms 
idified  by 
3,  and  by 
es  of  the 
s  and  pov- 
iducted  to 
re  speedily 

)urse,  been 
ety.    Frora 
1  sent  out; 
)ack  served 
tiin  arrived, 
But  his 
being  com- 
[lecessity  of 
still  nearer 
ame  of  the 
►py  fate,  he 
iresence  was 
those  whom 
;einent  came 
After  the 
the  duchess 

Ltterhove,Hi8t.dB 


CMAP.  in.]     ISABELLA  WITHDBAWS  FROM  THE  COURT.     163 

and  Charles  found  a  new  source  of  embarmssment 
in  determining  the  line  of  conduct  which  they  ought 
to  adopt  It  was  known  that  Philip's  mind  was  still 
highly  inflamed,  and  that  his  resientment  was  espe- 
cially directed  against  his  wife.  "Alas!"  said  the 
poor  lady,  "what  could  I  do?  I  knew  that  my 
husband  was  a  prince  of  a  liigh  courage,  and  dread- 
ful in  his  wrath.  I  beseech  him  to  pardon  me.  I 
am  a  stranger  in  this  land,  and  have  no  one  but 
my  son  to  comfort  and  protect  me."*^  She  re- 
solved, finally,  to  withdraw  from  the  court  —  a  res- 
olution which  was  doubtless  the  result  of  a  long 
endurance  of  domestic  troubles  brought  suddenly 
to  a  climax.  Although  she  had  lived  for  so  many 
years  in  the  Netherlands,  she  was  still,  as  she  herself 
expressed  it,  **a  stranger."  She  had  no  taste  for 
the  splendors  or  the  festivities  of  the  Burgundian 
court,  nor  does  she  seem  to  have  yjossessed  that 
easiness  of  disposition  which  was  conunended  by 
foreigners  as  enabling  the  Flemish  dames  to  bear 
without  repining  the  neglect  and  infidelity  of  their 
lords.  Like  so  many  of  her  line,  she  had  a  natural 
inclination  to  a  religious  life,  and,  having  founded 
a  convent  of  "  Gray  Sisters,"  she  took  up  her  resi- 
dence among  them,  and,  except  for  a  brief  interval, 
never  again  made  her  appearance  in  the  world. 

In  the  deliberations  which  preceded  the  duke's 
return  to  Brussels,  it  was  deemed  the  most  prudent 
course  for  the  count  of  Charolais  to  retire  to  Den- 

6*  Lamarche,  torn.  ii.  p.  225. 


i  I 


hU 


■    U 


\     'i 


t 


-1     ■  )5 


■t :, 


1  * 


164 


PHILIP'S  DOMESTIC  TROUBLES. 


[book  I. 


f  ! 


M 


dermonde,  and  await  a  communication  from  his 
father.  The  dauphin  undertook  the  office,  for 
which  he  was  eminently  suited,  of  assuaging  PhiUp's 
anger.  At  lirst,  indeed,  the  proud  and  fiery  prince 
rejected  his  interference,  intimating  in  emphatic 
terms  that  he  needed  no  man's  counsel  in  the 
management  of  his  private  affairs.  But  how  was 
it  possible  to  resist  the  entreaties  of  one  who,  in 
his  liumiHty  and  tenderness  of  heart,  threw  himself 
at  the  duke's  feet,  and,  with  the  tears  streaming  from 
his  eyes,  addressed  him  as  "  his  benefactor  and  his 
father?""^  Charles,  as  usual,  under  the  influence  of 
remorse,  —  a  sentiment  which  he  seems  to  have 
experienced  acutely  on  such  occasions,  but  not  at 
all  on  others,  —  was  ready  to  accejjt  whatever 
conditions  Philip  might  annex  to  llis  forgiveness, 
T'v/o  of  the  principal  members  of  his  household, 
suspected  by  his  father  of  intermeddling  in  these 
matters,  were  dismissed  from  liis  service,  and  ban- 
ished from  the  Burgundian  states.  One  of  them, 
Guillaume  Biche,  —  originally  "  a  poor  valeton  from 
Champagne,''  but  a  person  of  remarkable  talents 
and  address,  —  found  employment  at  the  French 
court,  and  secretly  transmitted  to  his  former  master, 
for  the  benefit  of  the  dauphin,  such  items  of  intel- 
ligence as  he  was  able  to  collect  respecting  a  scene 
in  which  Louis,  long  as  he  had  been  absent  from 
it,  still  continued  to  take  the  liveliest  interest. 
For  this  prince,  in  his  active  and  ardent  sympathy 


"  Cliastellain,  ap.  Kervyn,  Hist,  de  Flandre. 


[book 


CHAP.  HI.] 


DISTRESSES  OF  THE  DAUPfflN. 


165 


se,    for 

Philip's 
prince 

npliatie 
in   the 

ow  was 

who,  in 
himself 

ing  from 
and  his 

aence  of 
to  have 

it  not  at 

whatever 

rcriveness. 

louseholcl, 
in   these 
and  ban- 
of  them, 
iMon  from 
^Ic  talents 
^Q  French 
:er  master, 
Ls  of  intel- 
iq:  a  scene 
3sent  from 
terest. 
,  sympathy 


in  the  domestic  concerns  of  others,  had  not  ceased 
to  remember  his  own.  He  took  care,  also,  that  the 
king  should  not  forget  them.  Embassies  and  mes- 
sengers were  constantly  passing  to  and  fro,  bearing 
the  supplications  and  remonstrances  of  Louis,  and 
the  briefer  but  more  pointed  admonitions  of  Charles. 
The  bishop  of  Arras,  employed  as  the  advocate  of 
the  dauphin,  painted  the  distresses,  the  anxiety,  and 
the  virtues  of  his  client,  in  a  pathetic  and  intermi- 
nable harangue,  stuffed  with  citations  from  Scripture 
and  from  the  philosophers  and  poets  of  antiquity. 
"  Alas !  what  shaU  I  say  ?  how  shall  I  speak  ?  The 
dews  of  heaven  are  not  more  grateful  to  the  thirsty 
soil  than  is  the  thought  of  paternal  love  to  my  lord 
the  prince.  Tears  and  lamentations  cannot  express 
his  anguish.  What  heart  is  there  so  hard  as  not  to 
feel  compassion  for  one  born  to  a  state  of  grandeur 
to  which  no  other  in  the  world  can  be  compared,  yet 
plunged  by  adverse  fortune  and  the  malice  of  his 
enemies  into  want  and  tribulation?  But,  in  the  midst 
of  these  calamities,  behold  his  patience !  As  Job, 
when  deprived  of  wealth,  when  overwhelmed  by  tem- 
pest upon  tempest,  uttered  no  blasphemy  against  his 
Maker,  so  a  thousand  afflictions  have  not  been  able 
to  extinguish  that  love  and  reverence  for  the  king 
his  father  which  Monseigneur  has  in  so  many  in- 
stances displayed.""* 
As  all  this  touching  eloquence  proved  of  no  avail, 

"*    Roponsc   lie   Monseigneur  Ic    parlec  et  faite  par  rEveque  d'Arras, 
Daupluii  aux  Ambassadcui's  du  lioi,    Duclos,  torn.  ill.  pp.  151-]  78. 


!  •■ 
'    I* 


,^  -J'^ 


KING'S  FATAL  DELUSION. 


[book  i. 


the  patient  Louis  endeavored  to  find  consolation 
in  the  study  of  astrology,  and  consulted  the  star.'^ 
respecting  the  duration  of  his  father's  life."^  CharL  > 
did  his  son  the  injustice  of  suspecting  that  he  had 
taken  counsel  on  the  same  subject  with  terrestrial 
agents.  Letters,  written  with  the  design  that  they 
should  fall  into  the  king's  hands,  affected  to  speak 
of  a  good  understanding  between  the  daupLiu  and 
the  persons  whom  he  publicly  professed  to  consider 
as  his  bitterest  enemies.  A  terrible  chimera  took 
possession  of  the  royal  bosom.  The  monarch  who 
in  early  life  had  encountered  real  dangers  and  mis- 
fortunes with  so  much  courage  and  equaniniity  was 
now  to  fall  a  victim  to  the  phantoms  of  his  own 
brain.  He  seemed  to  be  surrounded  bv  an  in  vis- 
ible  web,  from  which  there  was  no"  possibility  oi' 
escape.  That  universal  dread  of  poison  wliich  had 
embalmed  itself  iu  ojie  of  the  commonest  ceremo- 
nies of  the  feudrJ  '■■v.'.  ?hold  —  no  prince  or  nolile 
eating  of  any  dish  uwit  had  not  been  previously 
tasted  in  his  presence  —  assumed  in  Charles's  mind 
the  character  of  monomania.  He  lost  all  confidence 
in  the  persons  whom  he  had  most  trusted.  He 
imprisoned  his  phj^sicians.  At  last  he  refused  to  eat. 
and  passed  several  successive  days  without  taking 
any  food.  After  long  deliberation,  it  was  resolved 
by  his  council  that  force  should  be  employed  to 
save  him  from  the  horrible  death  to  which  he  was 
driven   by  the   fear  of  death.      Nutriment   in   the 

0*  Seyssel,  Hist,  do  Louys  XIL,  (Paris,  1615,)  p.  80. 


CBAP.  in.] 


DEATH  OF  CHARLES  YH. 


167 


form  of  jellies  was  accordingly  administered.     But 
it  was  too  late.     Nature,  thus  cruelly  outraged,  re- 
fused to  rally.     Charles  the  Victorious  ex-   [juiy22, 
pir'^d  of  starvation,  in  the  fifty-eighth  year     i^ei.] 
of  his  age  and  the  thirty-ninth  of  his  reign."® 

It  has  been  remarked  of  this  sovereign,  whose 
career  had  been  so  remarkable,  and  on  the  whole 
so  prosperous,  —  whose  natural  abilities  were  so 
excellent,  and  whose  temperament  was  so  equal  tie, 
—  that  he  might  have  been  accounted  happy,  if 
he  had  had  a  different  father,  a  different  mother, 
and  a  different  son.  Tlie  imbecility  of  one  parent 
and  the  crimes  of  the  other  were  among  the  causes 
which  had  rendered  the  outset  of  his  life  a  period 
of  strange  confusion  and  calamity ;  his  existence 
had  been  shortened,  and  its  close  embittered,  by 
the  conduct  of  his  eldest  born,  who  was  to  reap 
the  advantages  of  his  struggles  and  his   triumphs. 


LIJ__LA 


i 

I 


■^  ■■  -■  .X. 


J  '■' ' 


-P-*^ 


""  This  account  of  Charles's  death 
is  rejected  by  Sismondi  and  by 
M.  Kervyn  de  Letterhove  as  rest- 
ing on  no  better  foundation  than 
popular  rumor,  and  as  contradicted 
by  the  tenor  of  a  letter  sipjned  by 
ail  the  members  of  the  royal  coun- 
cil, and  bearinj?  the  date  of  July 
17,  in  which  the  king's  illness  is 
stated  to  be  the  effect  of  an  ulcer- 
ated tooth,  and  no  mention  is  made 
of  his  voluntary  abstinence  from 
food.  (Duclos,  tom.  iii.  p.  190.) 
But  this  letter  was  'iddressed  to  the 
dauphin ;  it  was  written  for  the  evi- 
dent puri)osi'  of  conciliating  his  fa- 
vor, at  a  crisis  felt  by  the  writers  to 


be  a  momentous  one  for  them ;  and 
therefore  the  evidence,  chiefly  nega- 
tive, which  has  been  deduced  irom 
it,  camiot  with  much  plausibility  bi 
opposed  to  the  testimony  of  Com  • 
mines,  who  had  not,  indeed,  any  per- 
sonal knowledge  of  the  matter,  but 
who  had  every  opportunity  of  ob- 
taining his  information  from  tin  best 
sources,  and  who  speaks  of  tlit  lUcts 
stated  in  the  text  as  being  well  known 
to  Louis  and  recalled  by  him  when 
his  own  end  was  approaching  —  a 
point  on  which  the  authority  is  be- 
yond question  or  cavil.  (Memoires, 
tom.  ii.  pp.  215,  542.) 


^.'^i: 


;:  :i*#' 


"W 


1  '  i 


168 


ACCESSION  OF  LOUIS  XI. 


[book  I. 


.m  ^i 


But,  if  no  one  had  suffered  more  by  the  weakness 
and  wickedness  of  human  nature,  none  had  profited 
more  by  its  nobleness  and  heroism.  For  him  the 
inspired  peasant  gir]  of  Lorraine  had  passed  through 
the  din  of  battle  and  the  fires  of  martyrdom;  to 
him  the  fair  Agnes  Sorel  had  given  the  devotion  of 
a  too  tender  but  all-sacrificing  heart.  Brave  knights 
like  Dunois,  wise  and  honest  .statesmen  like  Brczu, 
skilful  and  enlightened  financiers  like  Jean  Bureau 
and  Jacques  Cceur,  had  served  him  with  fidelity  and 
been  poorly  rewarded.  A  nation  had  rallied  round 
him  in  his  need,  and  now  bewailed  his  death  with 
no  affected  sorrow.*'' 

There  was  one  person,  however,  whose  habitual 
cheerfulness  was  in  no  degree  disturbed  by  this 
event.  Louis,  notwithstanding  his  straitened  circum- 
stances, bestowed  a  Hberal  guerdon  on  the  bearer 
of  tlie  welcome  news.  His  elation  was,  in  fact,  too 
strong  for  conceahiient  or  control.''''*  After  hearing 
a  few  masses  somewhat  hastily  and  informally  cele- 
brated for  the  soul  of  his  deceased  father,  he  donned 
his  gayest  suit  of  white  and  red,  and,  attended  by 


'"■  "  On  pria  moult  par  tout  le 
royaane  pour  ledit  roy  Charles,  et 
fust  ffioult  plourd  et  plaint,  car  il  es- 
t'it  ain.i'  par  tout  sonclit  royaume." 
l)uclc'\'(/,  torn.  iii.  p.  148.  — And  see 
De  Troyes,  Cbroniquos  de  Louis  XL, 
fud.  Lengkt,)  p.  8. 

"■^  •'  Ne  ft'.t  oncques  si  joyeulx  que 
de  la  mort.  .  .  .  Car  il  avoit  ce  que 
tout  son  \ivant  avcit  convoite,  et 
pour  quoy  il  livoit  prid  Dieu  par  in- 
tercebsious  et  manicres  estranges" 


Chastcllain,  p.  133.  An  evident 
intimation,  from  a  soiu'co  not  to  be 
lightly  discredited,  that  Louis  had 
tampered  with  the  mysteries  of  the 
black  art  in  the  hope  of  abridging 
his  father's  life.  This  was  an  accu- 
sation of  too  horrible  a  nature,  in 
the  estimation  of  that  age,  to  be 
openly  made  against  the  king  of 
France  by  a  person  in  Chastellain's 
position,  even  though  an  enemy. 


labitual 
by   this 
circuin- 
bearer 
let,  too 
leariiig 
ly  ccle- 
doiiucd 
ided  by 

\n  evident 
e  not  to  Le 
Louis  had 
rics  of  the 
f  abridging 
as  an  accu- 

i\ature,  in 
age,  to  be 
le  king  of 
:;hastcllain's 

enemy. 


CHAP.  Ill'] 


HIS  RECEPTION  OF  THE  NEWS. 


169 


a  numerous  company  all  attired  in  the  same  bright 
colors,  spent  the  afternoon  as  usual  in  hunting."" 
He  refused  at  first  to  see  any  one  who  had  put 
on  mourning  for  the  late  king.  After  a  while  his 
exuberant  rejoicings  subsided  into  tranquil  gratitude. 
He  was  filled  with  devout  amazement  when  he  re- 
flected on  the  Providence  that  had  safely  led  him 
through  so  many  dangers  and  difficulties  to  the  fair 
inheritance  of  which,  as  he  was  firmly  convinced,  it 
had  been  intended  to  despoil  him.  He  who  but 
yesterday  esteemed  himself  the  poorest  and  most 
unfortunate  of  princes,  —  who  had  been  deprived 
of  his  father's  love  and  expelled  from  his  kingdom, 

—  wlio  had  passed  so  many  years  in  exile,  living 
upon  alms,  sitting  like  an  uninvited  guest  or  poor 
relation  at  the  table  of  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  where 
he  was  forced  to  exert  all  his  powers  of  entertain- 
ment lest  his  host  should  weary  of  his  company,''" 

—  had   suddenly,  and  "as   if  by  the   flitting   of  a 


89  Basin,  torn.  i.  p.  311.  — Du- 
clercq,  while  he  states  the  same  facts, 
puts  on  one  of  them  at  least  a  dif- 
ferent construction.  "  Prestement 
la  messe  du  serviche  dite  et  le  disner 
fait,  ledit  roy  I.oys  se  vestit  de  pour- 
pre  et  s'en  alia  a  la  chasse,  et  est  la 
maniere  que  sitost  qu'ung  roy  de 
Franche  est  mort,  son  fila  aisne,  ou 
son  plus  prochain,  est  roy,  et  n'est 
point  le  royaume  sans  roy  ;  [Le  roi 
est  mort,  vive  le  roi !]  et  pour  ceste 
cause  le  nouvel  roy  ne  porte  de 
deuil,  ains  se  veste  de  pourpre  ou 
de  rouge,  en  signifiant  qu'il  y  a  roy 
en  Franche."  (Memoires,  tom.  iii. 
VOL.  I.  22 


p.  146.)  Alienor  de  Poitiers,  an 
unquestionable  authority,  also  in- 
forms us  that  a  king  of  France  wore 
no  mourning  except  red.  But  we 
are  not  informed  that  this  custom 
extended  to  the  household ;  nor  can 
we  suppose  that  hunting  was  part 
of  the  obsequies  of  a  deceased  king, 
or  a  mode  of  proclaimmg  the  advent 
of  a  new  one. 

'"  "  Luy  falloit  entretenir  le  prince 
et  ses  principaulx  gouverneurs,  de 
paour  que  on  ne  se  ennuyast  de  luy 
h  y  estre  tant."  Commines,  tom.  u. 
p.  26G. 


t  n 


rl 


i  : 


•h,jj 


ui\ 


hi 


170 


ACCESSIOX  OF  LOUIS  XI. 


[book  I. 


dream,"  become  the  first  among  kings,  a  monarch 
whose  breath  was  power,  whose  word  was  life.'^ 

In  his  eagerness  to  grasp  the  sceptre  which  was 
waiting  for  him,  he  omitted,  before  his  departure  from 
the  Netherlands,  to  take  lea^e  of  the  countess  of 
Churolais,  who,  since  the  retirement  of  her  mother- 
in-law,  might  be  considered  as  his  hostess.  He  left 
directions,  however,  with  his  queen,  who  was  to  follow 
more  leisurely,  to  borrow  the  countess's  chariot  and 
hackneys,  in  order  that  her  journey  into  France 
might  be  made  with  becoming  state."~  For  himself, 
he  would  doubtless  have  preferred  to  enter  his  king- 
dom, as  he  was  afterwards  wont  to  visit  "  the  good 
towns,"  in  the  quietest  and  most  unostentatious  man- 
ner, observing  all  things  without  hin^elf  attracting 
observation.  But  he  was  still  dubious  in  regard  to 
his  reception  —  possessed  with  the  idea  that  plots 
had  been  formed  against  Imn,  in  his  father's  lifetime, 
with  the  design  of  setting  him  aside  and  placing  his 


'''  "  Hier  encore  me  tenoys  pour 
le  plus  povre  fils  de  roy  qui  oncques 
fust,  et  qui  depuis  Teage  de  mon  en- 
fauce  jusqiie  ad  ce  jour  present  n'ay 
eu  que  souffrance  et  tribulacion,  po- 
vrete  et  angoisse  en  di.sette,  et  qui 
plus  est  expulsion  d'liiretaige  et  d'a- 
mour  de  pere,  jusques  h  estre  con- 
strainct  de  vivre  en  emprunt  et  en 
meudicite,  ma  femme  et  moy  sans 
pieds  de  terre,  sans  maison  pour 
nous  respondre,  ne  pour  ung  denier 
vaillant,  s'il  ne  vcnoit  de  grace  et  de 
charite  de  beaulx  oncle,  qui  m'a  en- 
tretenu  ainsi  par  I'cspassc  de  cinq 
ans ;  et  maintenant,  tout  soulduine- 


ment,  comme  se  je  partoye  ■  d'ung 
songe,  Dieu  m'a  envoye  nouvel  eur ; 
et  en  lieu  do  ma  povrete  passc",  m'a 
faict  le  plus  riche  et  jilus  puissant 
roy  des  chrestiens."  Chastellain, 
p.  129. 

'•^  Idem,  p.  135.  -  He  adds,  "  Si 
le  fist  de  grand  cuer  ladicte  comtesse, 
nonobstant  que  la  chose  lui  sembloit 
assez  estrange,  que  ung  tel  noble  roy 
et  qui  tant  avoit  rechupt  d'hunneur 
et  de  service  en  la  maison  et  tunt 
promis  lerecongnoistre  quand  I'heure 
viendroit,  se  paxtit  sans  dire  oncques 
mot" 


e/ 
ich  was 
re  from 
itess  of 
motlier- 
He  left 

;0  follow 

riot  and 
France 
■  himself, 
his  king- 
the  good 
ous  man- 
ittracting 
[•e(>:ard  to 
licit  plots 
i  lifetime, 
lacing  his 

artoyed'ung 
i  nouvcl  eur ; 
!te  passes  m"a 
plus  puissant 
Chastellain, 

le  adds,  »  Si 
icte  comtesse, 
\\u  sembloit 

td  noble  roy 
ipt  d'hvjnneur 
naison  et  tunt 

quandl'lieure 
8  dire  oncques 


CHAP.  III.]        DEPAETUBE  FROM  TIIE  NETHERLANDS.        171 

younger  brother  on  the  throne."  He  waited,  there- 
fore, on  the  borders,  till  Philip  should  join  him  with 
a  body  of  troops,  to  escort  h'  a  to  Rheims,  where,  in 
accordance  with  ancient  usage,  the  ceremony  of  his 
coronation  was  to  be  performed. 

"The  good  duke,"  says  a  Burgundian  chronicler, 
"  was  very  willing  to  accompany  him  ;  for,  having 
nourished  him  five  years  in  his  own  house  and  at 
his  own  expense,  he  desired  to  show  that  he  had 
no  thought  of  deserting  him  in  his  necessity.""* 
Apart  from  this  consideration,  Philip  was  not  the 
man  to  miss  such  an  opportunity  for  making  a  dem- 
onstration of  his  magnificence  and  of  his  intimate 
relations  with  their  new  sovereign  before  the  eyes 
of  the  French  people.  He  sent  forth  a  summons  to 
all  his  vassals  to  assemble  with  their  retainers  at 
Avesnes;  and  the  summons  was  obeyed  with  alac- 
rity, for  there  was  not  a  petty  seigneur  in  Burgundy 
or  the  Netherlands  who  did  not  regard  himself  as 
having  been  in  a  certain  sense  the  dauphin's  pro- 
tector —  as  having  given  him  food  and  shelter,  and 
laid  him  under  heavy  obligations.  Many  of  the 
nobles  had  still  stronger  reasons  for  expecting  favors 


"  There  is  not  a  particle  of  proof 
that  Louis  had  any  real  ground  for 
his  susjjicions.  In  a  letter  addressed 
to  him,  a  few  weeks  after  his  acces- 
sion, the  count  of  Foix,  one  of  the 
council,  answering  certain  queries 
propounded  by  the  king  in  regard 
to  the  intrigues  of  the  court,  assev- 
erates that  he  had  never  heard  the 
slightest  intimatiou  of  any  scheme 


for  altering  the  succession.  The  late 
monarch,  he  says,  had  even  declined 
to  invest  his  second  son  with  the 
duchy  of  Guienne,  on  the  gi'ound 
that  the  alienation  of  a  great  fief 
ought  not  to  be  made  in  the  absenc 
£uid  without  the  consent,  of  the  heir 
apparent.  Duclos,  torn.  iii.  p.  206. 
''*  Lamarche,  torn.  ii.  p.  228. 


li       ; 


.,  .i 


m 


!  '5  tj 


E!'.1 


172 


ACCESSION  OF  LOUIS  XI. 


[book  1. 


li':' 


"  '.  If  I 


or  rewards.  They  had  conversed  with  him ;  they 
had  hawked  or  hunted  with  him;  they  had  dined 
at  his  table,  and  been  treated  by  him  with  the 
most  condescending  familiarity."^  One  remembered 
to  have  been  smilingly  saluted  as  "his  constable.""" 
Another  had  lent  him  thirty  crowns,  and  had  his 
bond  for  the  money,''''  which  would  doubtless  be 
repaid  with  right  royal  interest.  Louis  beheld  with 
amazement  the  numbers,  from  every  quarter  of 
the  duke's  dominions,  that  came  flocking  to  the 
place  of  rendezvous.  "Is  my  uncle,"  he  inquired, 
"  afraid  to  trust  himself  with  me  in  France  ?  "  His 
apprehensions  took  a  new  turn.  He  prevailed  on 
Plillij)  to  content  himself  with  an  escort  of  three 
or  four  thousand  men.  If  the  first  orders  had  not 
been  countermanded,  with  the  effect  oP  provoking 
general  disappointment  and  disgust,  the  number, 
we  are  told,  would  have  amounted  to  a  hundred 
thousand.''^ 

As  it  was,  their  journey  resembled  a  triumphal  pro- 
cession, in  which  the  duke  of  Burgundy  played  the 
part  of  the  conqueror,  Louis  that  of  the  illustrious 
captive.  The  horses'  trappings,  which  descended  to 
the  ground,  were  of  velvet  and  silk,  covered  with 
precious  stones  and  ornaments  cf  gold,  embroidered 
with  the  Burgundian  arms,  and  fringed  with  silver 


''*  Chastellain  confesses  that,  on  '"'  Lenglet  prints  a  bond  given  by 

such  pretexts  as  these,  the  Burgun-  Louis,  for  this  sum,  to  the  sire  de 

dians  looked  fonvard  to  filling  all  Sassenage,  in  1558.    Commines,  (ed. 

the  offices  in  the  kingdom.   CEuvres,  Lenglet,)  torn.  i.  p.  410,  note. 

p.  156.  "  Basin,tom.  ii.  p.  3.  —  Duclercq, 

'*  Idem,  p.  132.  torn.  iii.  p.  144.  —  Chastellain,  p.  128. 


y  J 


CHAP.  HI.] 


ENTRANCE  INTO  RIEEIMS. 


173 


bells,  the  constant  jingling  of  which  was  very  agreea- 
ble and  "solacing."  A  multitude  of  wagons,  over- 
hung with  cloth  of  gold  and  surmounted  by  banners, 
carried  the  duke's  furniture,  his  tapestries,  his  table 
equipage,  and.  the  utensils  of  his  kitchen.  These 
were  followed  by  herds  of  fat  oxen  and  flocks  of 
sheep,  intended  for  the  princes'  consumption  during 
their  progress.  Philip  and  his  son,  with  the  prin- 
cipal nobles,  appeared  in  their  liighest  splendor, 
preceded  and  followed  by  pages,  archers,  and  men- 
at-arms,  all  in  gorgeous  costumes,  and  blazing  with 
jewelry.'''' 

In  this  state  they  made  their  entrance  into  Rheims ; 
and  the  spectacle  was  pronounced  the  most  magnif- 
icent that  had  ever  been  witnessed  in  France.  Every 
object  that  met  the  eye  proclaimed  the  wealth  and 
power  of  "  the  great  duke."  The  king,  though  attired 
in  crimson  satin,  would  have  been  one  of  the  least 
conspicuous  persons  in  the  ovation,  if  the  magistrates 
had  not  come  out  to  welcome  and  salute  him.  He 
listened  to  the  long  orations  and  addresses  made  to 
him  here  and  elsewhere  on  his  journey  with  some 
degree  of  impatience,  and  in  general  uttered  his 
thanks  in  the  fewest  possible  words.*'    He  exhibited, 


m\i 


)uclercq, 
n,p.l28. 


"*  Description  de  I'entrde  de  Phi- 
lippe-le-Bon  et  Louis  XL  k  Reims, 
Gachard,  Doc.  Indd.,  torn,  ii,  p.  162, 
et  seq.  —  Chastellain,  p.  136. 

*"  In  M'hat  degree  his  impatience 
was  excusable  may  be  judged  from 
the  harangue  delivered  before  him 
by  the  chancellor  of  France,  Juvenal 


des  Ursins.  In  addition  to  the  usual 
classical  and  Scriptural  quotations, 
an  allegory  is  presented,  wliieh,  as 
the  orator  remarked,  he  had  already 
introduced  into  his  history.  Wis- 
dom, Prudence,  Power,  and  F  if  oe 
figure  as  "  four  ladies,"  wL  have  . 
each  a  son,  named  respectively  Dico, 


i  '.a 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


UitU     |2.5 

Ijo   ^"^     Mil 

■u  Uii    12.2 
1*0    12.0 


lit 

ut 


1.25  III  1.4 


I 

M 

iJ4 


Photographic 

SoHices 

Corporalion 


23  WKT  MAIN  STRHT 

WnSTU.N.Y.  M5M 

(7l*)t7a-4S03 


c\ 


<\ 


1 


174 


ACCESSION  OF  LOUIS  XL 


[book  I, 


on  the  other  hand,  no  dissatisfaction  at  being  eclipsed 
by  the  splendor  of  his  vassal.  He  spent  the  night 
after  his  arriv.al  at  Rheims  —  while  the  princes  and 
nobles  were  feasting  and  dancing  —  in  privacy  and 
devotion,  making  his  confession,  or,  in  the  language 
of  the  time,  "disposing  of  his  conscience." ^^  This 
was  preparatory  to  his  coronation,  which  was  to 
take  place  on  the  following  day. 

In  the  morning  he  was  conducted  to  the  cathedral, 
where  the  ceremony  was  performed  in  the  presence 
of  a  vast  concourse.  First  Louis,  "with  bare  head, 
his  palms  joined,  and  humbly  on  his  two  Irnees," 
adored  the  "  sainte  ampoule "  of  miraculous  oil,  which 
had  been  brought  with  great  solemnity,  and  beneath 
a  canopy,  to  the  portal  of  the  church.  He  was  then 
placed  between  curtains,  where  the  duke  of  Burgundy 
and  the  other  princes  divested  him  of  his  clothes, 
stripping  him  completely  naked  "  down  to  the  navel." 
In  this  state  he  was  escorted  to  the  high  altar,  where 
he  again  knelt,  while  th-^  archbishop  anointed  him 
from  the  minie  ampoule  on  the  forehead,  the  eyes,  the 
mouth,  the  breast,  the  arms,  and  the  loins.     He  was 


i  .'ii.-'  »'■ 


Duco,  Facio,  and  Fero.  In  order 
that  none  of  these  young  persons 
might  aspire  to  rule  alone,  "  the  im- 
perative of  each  had  its  tail  docked 
off"  —  "  C'est  h.  stjavoir  h  dico,  oil 
en  I'impdratif  dut  avoir  dice,  il  n'y 
avoit  que  die  "Sic.  (Duclos,  tom.  iii. 
pp.  208-214.)  Louis  is  said  to  have 
exemplified  his  possession  of  these 
symbolical  attributes  of  sovereignty 
by  interrupting  the  orator  with  the 
stem  command,  "  Be  brief! "  What 


is  more  certain  is,  that  one  of  his 
first  acts  was  to  dispossess  the  ex- 
cellent Juvenal  of  his  office  —  a  still 
more  striking  comment  on  his  "  du- 
co, due,"  but  one,  it  must  be  added, 
which  the  king  found  reason  after- 
wards to  repent  of. 

"  Comment,  apres  I'entrde  du  roy, 
ledict  seigneur  se  disposa  de  sa  con- 
science," is  the  title  of  Chostellain's 
eighth  chapter. 


ich  was  to 


CHAF.  m.] 


CORONATION. 


175 


then  arrayed  in  royal  robes  of  purple  velvet  embroi- 
dered with  the  fleur-dc-lys,  and  conducted  to  a  lofty 
staffing  at  the  further  extremity  of  the  church.  The 
princes,  prelates,  and  nobles,  who  had  ass^isted  in  the 
ceremonies,  now  fell  back,  with  the  exception  of  the 
duke  of  Burgundy, "  the  dean  of  the  peers  of  France." 
Taking  the  crown  in  both  his  hands,  Philip  ascended 
the  steps  of  the  scaffold,  twenty-eight  in  number, 
took  his  station  behind  the  king,  raised  the  crown 
aloft,  and  held  it  for  several  moments  suspended 
above  the  royal  head ;  then  slowly  and  gently 
brought  it  to  its  resting-place,  Avhile  his  full,  sono- 
rous voice  gave  forth  the  battle-cry  of  France,  "  Vive 
le  Roy,  Monfjoye  Saint-Denis!"  The  muiLitude  of  spec- 
tators raised  a  responsive  shout,  and  a  loud  peal 
of  clarions  and  trumpets  shook  swarms  of  echoes 
from  the  groined  roof.  ** 

At  tliG  banquet  which  followed  it  was  still  the 
duke  of  Burgundy  who  appeared  as  the  principal 
figure.  Though  the  king  sat  at  the  head  of  the 
table,  arrayed  in  his  regal  attire,  with  the  crown 
upon  his  head,  he  was  still  the  guest  of  his  fair 
uncle,  whose  cooks  had  provided  the  dinner,  whose 
plate  was  displayed  upon  the  sideboards,  and  whose 
servants  waited  on  the  company.  In  the  midst  of 
the  repast  the  doors  were  thrown  open,  and  porters 
entered  bearing  a  costly  present  for  the  new  sove- 
reign. The  good  duke,  overjoyed  at  witnessing  a 
ne^:  reign  inaugurated  in  a  time  of  profound  peace 


? 


;  ■ 


:  , 


M\ 


=  %^ 


:  i  ?h 


'I 


"ilij 


! 


f! 


If  I 

V  f  • 

I        ' 

m 


"  Chastelloin,  p.  141.  —  Oachord,  Doc.  Indd.,  torn.  ii.  p.  168,  et  Bcq. 


176 


ACCESSION  OF  LOUIS  XI. 


[book  I. 


and  with  becoming  splendor,  considered  that  there 
could  be  no  fitter  occasion  for  exhibiting  the  extent 
of  his  riches  and  the  liberality  of  his  soul.^  Such 
of  the  guests  as  were  strangers,  except  from  hearsay, 
to  the  splendors  of  the  Burgundian  court,  gazed  in 
astonishment  at  the  images,  gobl<3ts,  miniature  ships, 
and  other  articles,  of  the  finest  gold  and  rarest  work- 
manship, —  o,mounting  in  value  to  more  than  two 
hundred  thousand  crowns,  —  which  Philip  presented 
to  the  king  as  an  emphatic  token  of  Iiis  loyalty  and 
good-will.  Louis,  being  more  accustomed  to  these 
displays  and  better  acquainted  with  the  duke's  mu- 
nificence, sat  quiet  and  demure,  paying  little  atten- 
tion to  the  bustle  and  the  buzzing  which  circulated 
through  the  hall.  Finding  the  crown  too  large  and 
heavy  to  be  worn  with  comfort,  he  had  it  removed 
and  placed  beside  him  on  the  table.  All  the  time 
of  dinner  he  conversed  in  low  and  confidential  tones 
•with  the  gentleman  who  stood  behind  his  chair  — 
Philippe  Pot,  seigneur  de  la  Roche,  a  nobleman  of 
Burgundy,  distinguished  at  a  later  period,  and  in 
the  councils  of  France,  by  his  bold  advocacy  of  pop- 
ular rights.^ 


^^  "  Le  bon  duo  qui  veoit  le  jour 
de  la  gloire  et  de  la  joye  que  plus 
on  avoit  desire  au  monde,  comme  de 
soy  trou^1er  paisiblement  h,  la  coro- 
nation d'ung  roy  de  France,  se  ddlita 
en  lui  ouvrir  le  tresor  de  I'amour  de 
son  cueur  et  en  lui  monstrer  honneur 
et  libdralitd  profonde  de  tout  ce  que 
Dieu  lui  avoit  envoyd  et  prestd,  pen- 
sant  jamais  le  povoir  mieulx  employ- 
er, ne  jamais  soy  trouver  en  lieu  oil 


le  mieulx  le  peust  faire."  Chastel- 
tellain,  p.  142.  —  A  covert  allusion 
is  here  made  to  the  coronation  of 
the  last  king,  under  the  auspices  of 
Joan  of  Arc,  when  the  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, 'nstead  of  giving  to  the  cer- 
emony the  sanction  of  his  presence 
and  cooperation,  had  been  at  open 
war  with  Charles  and  the  champion 
of  a  rival  claimant. 
^  Idem,  loo.  cit 


[book  I. 


CHAP.  III.] 


SOLICITORS  FOR  OFFICE. 


177 


lat  there 
LB  extent 
L«3     Such 
I  hearsay, 
gazed  in 
ure  ships, 
rest  work- 
than  two 
presented 
)yalty  and 
[  to  these 
luke's  mu- 
ttle  atten- 
circulated 
>  hirge  and 
t  removed 
1  the  time 
ntial  tones 
is  chair  — 
bleman  of 
3d,  and  in 
icy  of  pop- 


ire."  Chastel- 
covert  allusion 
coronation  of 
;he  auspices  of 
icdukeofBur- 
■ing  to  the  cer- 
of  his  presence 
heen  at  open 
the  champion 


Far  from  meeting  with  any  resistance  in  his  as- 
sumption of  the  title  which  had  rightfully  devolved 
upon  him,  Louis  found  a  source  of  embarrassment 
in  the  eagerness  of  his  vassals  to  invest  him  with 
the  picrogatives  of  sovereignty,  and  the  pressing 
demands  which  called  for  his  immediate  exercise  of 
them.  The  tidings  of  Charles's  death  had  produced 
an  excitement  throughout  the  kingdom  among  a 
certain  class  of  the  population.  Those  who  held 
offices  in  the  gift  of  the  crown,  and  the  infinitely 
larger  number  that  coveted  these  distinctions,  were 
alike  impatient  to  offer  their  services  to  his  successor, 
whose  absence  at  such  a  moment  was  universally 
deplored.  Even  before  his  departure  from  the  Neth- 
erlands, many,  whose  fortunate  proximity  or  greater 
alertness  enabled  them  to  outstrip  their  competitors, 
had  hastened  to  greet  him  and  join  his  train,  which 
all  along  the  route  was  swollen  by  fresh  accessions. 
At  Rheims  he  found  himself  surrounded  by  a  faithful 
and  devoted  army  of  placemen  and  place-hunters,^ 
all  ranging  themselves  around  him  as  closely  as 
possible,  watching  for  the  indications  of  his  sovereign 
pleasure,  and  ready  to  execute  his  behests.  There 
were,  indeed,  some  few  exceptions  to  these  general 
manifestations  of  loyalty  and  zeal.  Several  of  the 
late  king's  ministers,  instead  of  taking  a  prominent 
part,  as  the  duties  of  their  station  required,  in  the 
reception  of  the  new  monarch,  chose  to  absert  them- 
selves entirely,  and  even  selected  this  occasion,  when 


**  Basiu,  torn.  ii.  p.  7. 


VOI.L 


178 


ACCESSION  OF  LOUIS  XI. 


[book  I. 


all  the  world  had  come  forth  to  bask  in  the  glory 
of  the  rising  sun,  for  retirii.g  into  the  shadows  ol' 
seclusion  and  obscurity.  The  sire  de  Brez^,  seneschal 
of  Normandy,  having  found  a  secure  retreat,  waited 
for  an  intimation  from  his  friends,  among  whom 
he  was  fortunate  enough  to  count  the  all-powerful 
Philip,  as  to  the  time  when  he  might  most  appro- 
priately present  himself  at  the  court.  The  count 
of  Dammartrn,  with  still  greater  diffidence,  made  his 
preparations  for  going  abroad.^  On  the  other  hand, 
the  Burgundian  nobles,  being  well  assured  that  the 
grateful  Louis  w^as  reserving  "  all  the  offices  in  the 
kingdom "  for  them,  regarded  with  smiling  pity  the 
hopes  and  anxieties  of  the  crowd. 

Escorted  by  nearly  all  the  great  feudatories  and 
nobles  of  the  realm,  the  king  made  his  entrance  into 
the  capital  of  his  dominions  on  Monday  the  31st  of 
August,  1461.  On  this  occasion  he  wore  a  purpoint 
of  crimson  satin  covered  by  a  long  robe  of  white 
damask.  Mounted  on  a  snow-white  palfrey,  he  rode 
beneath  a  canopy  of  cloth  of  gold,  upheld,  on  the 
points  of  their  lances,  by  four  of  the  principal  magis- 
trates. The  procession  comprised  more  than  fifty 
thousand  persons,  and  the  number  of  the  spectators 
was  estimated  at  half  a  million.  Among  the  shows 
exhibited  at  different  points  along  the  route  were 
angels  who  descended  through  the  air  by  means  of 


"  Extrait  d'un  Clironique  sur  le  ed  with  Dammartin  is  strongly  paint- 

Comte  de  Dammartin,  Lenglet,  torn.  ed.     His  servants  deserted  him ;  his 

ii.  p.  322,  et  seq.    The  panic  among  friends  refused  to  answer  or  even  to 

those  who  were  in  any  way  connect-  receive  his  letters. 


[book  I. 

I  the  glory 
shadows  oi' 
;^,  seneschal 
reat,  waited 
long  whom 
all-powerful 
most  appro- 
The  count 
ice,  made  his 
3  other  hand, 
red  that  the 
affices  in  the 
iling  pity  the 

udatories  and 
entrance  into 
Ly  the  31st  of 
Dre  a  purpoint 
robe  of  white 
ilfrey,  he  rode 
phcld,  on  the 
fincipal  magis- 
ore  than  fifty 
the  spectators 
)ng  the  shows 
le  route  were 
by  means  of 

ain  is  strongly  paint- 
hts  deserted  him ;  his 
Ito  answer  or  even  to 
Irs. 


CHAP,  in.] 


ENTRANCE  E'^O  PARIS. 


179 


machinery  and  placed  crowns  and  wreaths  upon  the 
king's  head,  and  a  group  of  beau  iful  girls,  entirely 
linked,  sporting  in  the  waters  of  a  fountain  and  sing- 
ing blandishing  songs  in  imitation  of  Sirens.  After 
performing  his  devotions  at  Notre  Dame,  Louis  pro- 
ceeded to  the  royal  palace,  from  which,  on  the 
following  day,  he  removed  to  a  mansion  adjoining 
the  fortress  of  the  Bastille.^' 

The  duke  of  Burgundy  took  up  his  residence  at 
his  own  house,  the  Hotel  d'Artois.  Twenty-six  years 
had  elapsed  since  his  last  visit  to  Paris,  then  in  the 
hands  of  the  English.  He  was  greeted  with  enthu- 
siastic demonstrations  by  the  inhabitants,  who  still 
retained  their  hereditary  attachment  to  his  person 
and  family.  "  Welcome,  noble  duke ! "  they  shouted ; 
"  welcome  to  your  good  city  of  Paris !  Thanks  for 
the  care  which  you  have  taken  of  our  king ! "  His 
presence  threw  an  air  of  gayety  over  the  capital  such 
as  it  had  not  worn  for  many  a  year,  such  as  it  was 
not  soon  to  wear  again.  Tournaments  and  other 
brilliant  spectacles  furnished  daily  entertainment  to 
the  populace  as  well  as  to  the  higher  ranks ;  while, 
at  the  Hotel  d'Artois,  which  had  been  sumptuously 
fitted  up,  there  was  a  constant  succession  of  banquets 
and  balls  on  a  scale  of  magnificence  to  which  the 
French  court  had  been  little  accustdmed.  A  prince 
so  splendid  in  his  tastes  could  not  fail  to  be  popular 
with  all  classes.  If  all  were  not  equally  benefited 
by  his  profusion,  none  could  murmur  that  it  was 

*''  De  Troyes,  p.  9.  —  ChaBteU<un,  p.  ISO.  —  Duclercq,  tooL  iiL  p.  168, 
et  seq. 


i  » 


'■\. 


,!f 


>  f 
1  >iii 


"4 


\  41 
115 


180 


ACCESSION  OF  LOUIS  XI. 


Ibook  I 


If    ,J 


!   i 


H 


indulged  at  their  expense.  By  the  ladies,  amonf 
whom  he  distributed  jewels  and  other  valuable  pres- 
ents, his  generosity  was  especially  applauded.  But 
what  pleased  them  still  more  was  his  gallantry,  the 
amiable  and  joyous  manner  in  which  he  displayed 
his  devotion  to  the  sex.  On  one  occasion  he  was 
seen  riding  through  the  streets  on  a  palfrey,  his 
niece,  the  duchess  of  Orleans,  being  seated  behind 
him,  and  one  of  her  maidens,  the  most  beautiful 
damsel  in  all  Paris,  mounted  on  the  saddle-bow.^ 

The  king  meanwhile  employed  himself  in  a  dif- 
ferent manner.  Notwithstanding  his  long  residence 
in  the  Ne^  inds,  he  seemed  to  have  little  liking 
for  shows  t  tivities.  Much  to  the  discontent  of 
his  subjects,  he  was  seldom  seen  in  public ;  but  those 
who  had  business  to  transact  with'him  mad«  no 
complaint  of  his  want  of  aifability.  He  was,  in  fact, 
too  much  occupied  with  aflfrirs  of  state  to  have  time 
for  any  thing  else  except  his  religious  duties,  his 
attention  to  which  was  wonderfully  scrupulous.  The 
same  activity  which  had  characterized  his  govern- 
ment in  Dauphin^  was  already  conspicuous  in  his 
present  and  far  larger  field  of  labor.  He  had  dis- 
missed not  only  the  ministers  of  the  late  king,  but 
an  immense  number  of  functionaries  in  every  depart- 
ment and  of  every  grade.  This  was  no  more  than 
what  had  been  expected  by  most,  and  desired  by 


,  li 


^  Duclercq,  torn.  iii.  p.  174. —  velJi  unp  humain  prinche  !  veli  ung 

"  Commenchferent  k  trotter  parmy  seigneur  dont  ung  monde  seroit  e«- 

les  rues,  en  grand  joye  de  tous  les  tord  de  I'avoir  tel  1 ' "    Chastellain, 

Yoyans,  qui  alloient   disant :    '  £t  p.  170. 


CUAF.  ITI.] 


NEW  ATPOINTMENTS. 


181 


many.  But  his  appointments,  in  which  he  seemed 
to  be  governed  by  a  spirit  of  caprice  rather  than 
any  settled  principle,  occasioned  no  little  surprise. 
Those  who  had  the  best  reasons  for  anticipating 
promotion  and  rewards  found  themselves  unaccount- 
ably forgotten.  To  one  who  urged,  in  n  somewhat 
vehement  tone,  the  promises  made  to  him  in  former 
years,  Louis  smilingly  remarked,  "  That,  good  friend, 
was  while  I  was  dauphin ;  but  now  I  am  king."  On 
the  other  hand,  a  monk  of  Cluny,  by  name  Pierre  de 
Morvilliers,  against  whom  a  charge  had  been  pre- 
ferred by  the  Parliament,  and  who,  in  the  royal 
presence,  boldly  demanded  justice,  refusing  in  lieu 
thereof  to  accept  a  pardon,  was  told  in  reply  that 
the  king  had  made  him  chancellor  of  France.™  Such 
a  method  of  procedure  might  well  be  considered 
strange. 

Above  all,  the  Burgundian  nobles  were  astonished 
and  disgusted  at  the  turn  which  affairs  were  taking. 
Since  their  arrival  at  Paris,  they  were  no  longer  on 
terms  of  daily  and  familiar  intercourse  with  the 
prince  whom  they  had  shielded  in  his  adversity,  and 
who  had  been  so  lavish  in  his  acknowledgments. 
"  Then  he  was  dauphin ;  but  now  he  was  king ; "  — 
an  immense  distance,  it  would  seem,  separated  these 


«»  "« Sire,'  diet  I'autre,  'je  ddsire 
bien  cstre  en  vostre  grilce  sans  la- 
quelle  je  ne  puis  vivre.  Mais  au 
regard  du  prochee  de  quoy  me  par- 
lez,  si  ne  demande  grfioe  nuile,  fors 
que  justice.'  •  .  .  Et  le  roy  alors,  v^- 
ant  sa  oouacauce  et  grand  asseure- 


ment  de  parler,  le  regarda  par  ma^ 
ni^re  d'admiradon,  et  contenant  sa 
paroUe  ung  peu  au  premier  mot,  lui 
diet :  '  Et  je  —  vous  fay  chancellier 
de  France:  soyez  preud'homme." 
Chastellaiu,  pp.  157,  158. 


' 


m 


III 


;    t 


r       I* 


182 


ACCESSION  OF  LOUIS  XI. 


[book  I. 


two  positions,  although  a  moment  had  been  sufficient 
for  crossing  it.  Of  all  that  ghttering  and  expectant 
throng  not  one,  except  the  sire  de  Croy,  could  obtain 
cither  pen.sion  or  place.  The  duke  was  besieged  by 
the  clamorous  tongues  and  discontented  faces  of  his 
followers.  He  listened  with  indignation,  but  his 
pride  would  not  permit  him  to  interfere ;  he  dis- 
dained to  utter  reproaches  or  to  become  himself  a 
solicitor.""  He  had  already  begun  to  appreciate  the 
"  new  world  "  into  which  he  had  so  suddenly  entered. 
The  celerity,  the  indifference,  the  disregard  of  friends, 
the  rancor  towards  fancied  foes,  which  marked  all 
the  acts  of  a  reign  so  recently  commenced,  excited 
in  Philip's  mind  a  deeper  feeling  than  either  wonder 
or  vexation.  "  I  foresee,"  he  remarked  to  his  nephew, 
the  duke  of  Bourljon, "  that  this  man-  will  not  rule 
long  in  peace  ;  he  is  preparing  for  himself  a  mar- 
vellously great  trouble.""*  He  had  preferred  on  his 
own  account  only  a  single  complaint  —  touching  the 
manner  in  which  the  Parliament  of  Paris  had  been 
accustomed  to  exercise  its  authority  in  his  dominions. 
Louis,  who  had  already  determined  to  remodel  tliis 
tribunal,  requested  that  Philip  would  himself  desig- 
nate discreet  and  lit  persons  to  receive  the  appoint- 
ments. But  when  the  new  list  came  out,  it  was 
found  that,  by  some  strange  oversight,  not  a  single 
name  suggested  by  the  duke  had  been  inserted  in  it. 
Yet  it  was  precisely  in  his  feelings  and  demeanor 
towards  his  fair  uncle  of  Burgundy  that  Louis  had 


w  Idem,  p.  156. 

"  Chronique  de  Dammartin»  Lenglet,  torn.  iii.  p.  318. 


CHAP.  I".] 


HONORS  RENDERED  TO  PHILIP. 


183 


undergone  no  change  in  ceasing  to  ])e  dauphin  and 
becoming  king.  In  their  personal  interviews  he  was 
still  the  same  humble  and  attached  friend  as  when 
he  had  lived  upon  the  duke's  bounty  and  rendered 
delicate  attentions  to  all  the  members  of  his  family. 
His  expressions  of  gratitude  were  as  fluent  and  fer- 
vent as  ever.  If  Philip  made  a  request,  —  not  for 
himself  or  his  own  subjects,  but  on  behalf  of  the 
French  people,  heavily  oppressed  with  taxes,  or  of 
some  old  servant  of  the  late  monarch  who  stood  in 
dread  of  the  royal  anger,  —  he  was  told  in  reply 
tliat  he  could  ask  for  nothing  which  the  king  did 
not  feel  himself  constrained  to  grant.  He  was  evi- 
dently the  man  whom  Louis  delighted  to  honor. 
Their  names,  by  an  express  command,  were  linked 
together  in  the  prayers  and  offices  of  the  church. 
The  keys  of  the  Bastille  were  presented  to  the  duke, 
with  a  request  that  he  would  place  a  garrison  of 
his  own  in  that  important  fortress.  After  three 
weeks  spent  in  the  capital  Louis  prepared  to  make 
a  progress  through  Normandy  and  the  other  prov- 
inces north  of  the  Loire.  Before  his  departure  he 
paid  a  visit  to  the  Hotel  d'Artois,  attended  by  all 
the  great  officers  of  the  government,  the  prelates, 
the  heads  of  the  University  and  the  municipality  of 
Paris.  In  a  speech  before  this  dignified  assembly 
he  recited  all  the  favors  for  which  he  w^as  indebted 
to  the  good  duke,  whom  he  designated  as  his  ben- 
efactor and  his  savior.  It  was  in  vain  that  Philip 
protested  against  a  requital  so  disproportioned  to 
his  "  poor  services,"  in  which  he  had  only  complied 


u 


I  n 


( I 


■^\i 


,H.":, 


'■fii: 


»»s;i;"' 


184 


ACCESSION  OF  LOUIS  XI. 


[book  I. 


with  his  obligations  as  a  vassal,  and  through  lack 
of  ability  had  fallen  far  short  of  his  desires.  His 
disclaimer  only  drew  from  Louis  a  fresh  and  more 
detailed  oninneration  of  the  benefits  he  had  received 
and  stronger  assurances  of  his  gratitude.*^ 

The  same  scene  was  repeated,  on  the  following 
day,  without  the  walls  of  Paris,  whither  the  king 
had  been  escorted  by  the  Burgundian  prince  and 
all  the  nobles  of  his  suite.  Their  loving  and  pathetic 
farewell^  moved  the  spectators  to  tears,  and  fdled 
the  hearts  of  all  with  sympathetic  emotions  of  min- 
gled tenderness  and  joy."^ 

The  king  being  gone,  Philip  had  no  longer  any 
motive  for  delaying  his  own  return  home.  Accord- 
ingly, on  the  last  day  of  September  he  quitted  Paris, 
attended  by  his  faithful  followers,  whose  rueful  and 
angry  countenances  presented  a  striking  contrast  to 
their  former  joyous  and  contented  aspect.  Ia^ss  proud 
or  less  prudent  than  their  master,  the  Burgundian 
nobles  made  no  concealment  of  their  indignation  at 
the  treatment  which  they  had  experienced.  They 
had,  however,  one  consolation  —  it  was  nothing  more 
than  they  had  all  along  anticipated."* 

The  count  of  Charolais,  instead  of  accompanying 
his  father,  repaired  to  Dijon  his  native  place,  which 


'*  Chastellain,  p.  175. — Duclercq, 
torn.  iii.  p.  177. 

''  "  Taut  estoit  aimable  et  piteubc 
leur  departement,  et  tant  plaisoit  a 
ceulx  qui  les  veoient,  qu'il  n'en  avoit 
guerres  d'ung  costc  ni  d'a:  ''re  qui 
illecq  estoient  a  qui  le  coeur  ne  raten- 


rist  et  ne  plouret  de  joye."  Duclercq, 
torn.  iii.  p.  178. 

**  "  Dont  la  pluspart  .  .  .  dirent 
bien  que  autant  en  avoient-ils  bien 
congneu  et  doubtd  en  ly  d^s  la 
premiere  heure."  Chastellain,  p. 
174. 


CHAP.  III.]        THE  BUR0UNDIAN8  RETURN  HOME. 


185 


he  had  not  yet  visited  since  his  infancy.  Thoiif^h 
he  hud  played  no  conspicuous  part  in  public  e^  ents 
and  cere'uonies,  during  his  stay  in  the  capital,  he 
had  not  been  forgotten  by  the  king.  He  had  re- 
ceived the  li!gh  appointment  of  lieutenant-general 
of  Normandy,  He  was  not,  indeed,  requested  to 
undertake  the  duties  of  the  office.  But  he  received 
the  salary  annexed  to  it,  and  was  invited  to  pay  a 
friendly  visit  to  Louis  at  Tours,  where  he  met  with 
a  most  gracious  reception,  and  passed  nearly  a  month 
in  an  agreeable  round  of  diversions  and  entertain- 
nients."^  The  prospective  arrival  of  the  duke  of 
Brittany,  who  had  not  yet  paid  his  respects  to  his 
new  sovereign,  suggested  a  necessity  for  Charles's 
departure.  The  king  had  reasons  of  his  own  for  not 
desiring  a  meeting,  or  promoting  the  formation  of 
a  friendly  attachment,  between  these  two  young 
princes.""  The  count  accordingly  took  leave,  amid 
renewed  assurances  of  the  royal  regard.  When  he 
and  Louis  next  met  and  next  parted,  it  was  to  be 
on  different  terms. 


u 


Duclercq,  torn.  iii.  pp.  193-196.       "  Lamarche,  torn.  iL  p.  230. 


■'h 


VOL.  I. 


24 


!  iii 


I  M 


m 


CHAPTER   IV. 

CHABACTER    OP    LOUIS.  -  HIS    POSITION    AND    AIK8.  —  EMBBOIL- 
MENT8  WITH   THE   NOBLES. 

1461-1465. 

Before  his  departure  from  ihe  capital  the  king 
had  laid  aside  his  robe  and  purpoint  £>i  satin,  and 
resumed  his  ordinary  attire.  He  dressed,  we  are 
told,  "  so  badly  that  worse  was  impossible  "  ^  —  in  a 
doublet  of  gray  fustian,  a  mantle  of  the  same  coarse 
material  cut  ridiculously  short,  and  a  shabby  hat, 
ornamented  not  with  pearls  or  diamonds,  but  with 
a  leaden  image  of  the  Virgin,  whom  he  had  selected 
as  the  first  if  not  the  exclusive  object  of  his  worship. 
Round  his  neck  was  a  rosary  composed  of  large 
wooden  beads,  such  as  were  worn  by  pilgrims.^ 

Hifc-  exterior,  in  other  respects,  could  hardly  be 
considered  as  attractive.  His  person  was  lean  and 
ill-shaped.  His  air  and  demeanor  were  any  thing 
but  courtly  or  dignified.    His  features,  though  full 


•  "Si  mal  que  pis  ne  povoit."        *  Idem,  loc.  cit. — Chastellain,  p. 
Commiaes,  torn.  L  p.  166.  189.  —  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  7. 

(186).- 


_  EMBBOIL- 


CUAP.  IT.] 


HABITS  OF  LOUIS. 


187 


of  character,  were  neither  handsome  nor  pleasing. 
The  eyes,  small  and  keen ;  the  nose,  large,  promi- 
nent, and  drooping ;  the  mouth,  thin,  with  the  upper 
lip  somewhat  projecting ;  the  cheeks  and  chin,  ample 
but  flabby,  seemed  to  indicate  a  prying,  sarcastic, 
self-complacent,  and  ignoble  mind.^ 

His  style  of  living  was  free  from  pomp,  and  fru- 
gal even  to  parsimony.*  He  travelled  without  state, 
accompanied  by  only  five  or  six  attendants,  but 
followed,  at  a  distance,  by  fourscore  archers  of  his 
guard,  who  were  stationed  at  night  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  his  lodgings.^  In  entering  a  town,  he 
avoided,  if  possible,  a  public  reception  —  sometimes 
diverging  from  the  main  avenues  in  order  to  elude 
the  greetings  of  the  crowd,  and  generally  preferring 
to  take  up  his  quarters  with  some  private  citizen 
or  good  ecclesiastic  rather  than  at  the  more  stately 
residence  which  had  been  prepared  for  him." 

Wherever  he  went  he  was  met  with  the  same 
petition  —  that  he  would  be  graciously  pleased  to 
abolish  the  taille  and  other  imposts  established  in  the 
last  reign.  This,  he  declared,  was  the  very  project 
which  he  had  himself  had  in  contemplation.  He 
discoursed  in  a  flattering  strain  of  his  desire  to  do 


'  According  to  Basin,  who  paints 
him  on  all  occasions  en  noir,  his  per- 
sonal appearance  was  that  of  a  leper, 
and  the  expression  of  his  countenance 
that  of  a  buffoon. 

*  During  the  first  year  the  ex- 
penses of  the  royal  table  amounted 
to  only  12,000  livres.  "  En  ce  temps 
ne  se  faisoit  que  un  plat  pour  le 


Roi,  son  trein  etoit  bien  petit  en  tous 
Etats,  tellement  que  ladite  somme 
suffisoit."    Duclos,  torn.  iii.  p.  213. 

*  Chastellain,  p.  189. 

*  The  people  at  length  barred  up 
the  side  routes,  and  compelled  the 
king  to  make  his  entrance  by  the 
principal  thoroughfares.  Basia,  tom. 
iii.  p.  167. 


I 
11 


]i 


% 


'■  VI 


ii'f. 


■<M 


i    I: 


188 


HE  POSTPONES  THE  MILLENNIUM. 


[book  I. 


away  with  the  heavy  burdens  that  oppressed  the 
people,  and  restore  the  kingdom  to  its  "ancient 
liberties.'"'  But  such  an  object  was  not  to  be  at- 
tained at  once.  Time  was  required.  Arrangements 
were  necessary.  He  enjoined  patience,  and,  by  way 
of  enforcing  the  lesson,  levied  in  the  mean  time 
some  additional  taxes.^ 

His  "  poor  subjects,"  while  they  listened  to  his  elo- 
quent harangues,  imagined  that  a  new  era,  nay  the 
millennium  itself,  was  about  to  commence.®  They 
were  disposed  to  be  clamorous  when  they  found  the 
great  event  indefinitely  postponed.  In  some  places 
commotions  broke  out.  At  Rheims  the  tax-collectors 
were  massacred,  their  offices  pillaged,  and  the  regis- 
ters burned.  But  this  soon  proved  to  have  been  an 
imprudent  procedure.  Archers,  disguised  as  laborers, 
found  their  way  into  the  town.  An  oTBicer  made  his 
appearance,  bearing  the  king's  instructions.  The 
rioters  were  apprehended  and  punished.  Some  had 
their  hands,  some  their  heads,  cut  off!  Others  were 
whipped  and  banished. 

The  clergy,  who  had  been  greatly  edified  by  the 
piety  of  the  new  monarch,  were  suddenly  astounded 
by  the  promulgation  of  "  an  impious  edict "  directing 


'  "Nihil  nempe  tantum  in  desi- 
derio  se  habere  asserebat,  quantum 
ut  populos  regni  ipsnmque  regnum 
ab  angariis  ct  immanibus  tributorum 
atque  exactionum  oneribus,  quibus 
ipsos  esse  gravatos  cognoscebat,  le- 
vare,  ct  in  pristinam  atque  antiquam 
libertatem  instaurare  pt  rcstituere 
posset."    Basin,  torn.  iL  p.  11. 


*  "  n  ne  diminua  nuls  subsides, 
tailles  ne  gabelles  au  royaume,  ains 
en  mectoit  de  jour  en  jour  des  nou- 
velles."    Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  8. 

^  Or,  as  Chastellain  still  more 
strongly  expresses  it,  "  cuidoient 
avoir  trouve  Dieu  par  les  pieds." 
p.  173. 


■  r. 


I 


[book  I. 

ressed  the 
s  "ancient 
,  to  be  at- 
'angements 
nd,  by  way 
mean  time 

I  to  his  elo- 
jra,  nay  the 
Qce.«    They 
!y  found  the 
some  places 
ax-collectors 
id  the  regis- 
ave  been  an 
i  as  laborers, 
cer  made  his 
jtions.     The 
Some  had 
Others  were 

dified  by  the 

y  astounded 

.ct"  directing 

lua  nuls  subsides, 
au  royaume,  aina 
ir  en  jour  des  nou- 
q,  torn.  iv.  p.  8. 
tellain  still  more 
es  it,  "  cuidoient 
BU  par  les  pieds." 


CHAP.  IV.]       MISCONCEPTTON  OF  HIS  CHARACTER. 


189 


that  ecclesiastical  property  should  be  taxed  in  the 
same  proportion  as  that  of  laymen.  By  a  still  more 
singular  ordinance  —  levelled,  it  would  seem,  at  the 
whole  mass  of  the  nobility,  whose  lands  were  cov- 
ered with  forests,  and  who  found  their  chief  occupa- 
tion in  the  chase  —  hunting  was  expressly  forbidden 
throughout  the  realm  of  France.  Louis  w^as  himself 
tlie  most  ardent  of  sportsmen.  Did  he  desire  to 
monopolize  the  game  for  his  own  amusement  ?  But 
if  he  should  live  to  the  age  of  Methusaleh,  and  apply 
himself  to  this  sole  pursuit,  the  woods  of  the  royal 
domain  were  sufficiently  extensive  to  furnish  an  in- 
exhaustible supply.'" 

At  the  commencement  of  his  reign  the  character 
and  actions  of  Louis  seem  to  have  been  incorrectly 
appreciated  by  his  contemporaries.  The  versatility 
of  his  disposition  and  the  eccentricities  of  his  conduct 
gave  rise  to  a  suspicion  that  he  had  not  been  too 
amply  endowed  in  respect  to  brain.  "Fickleness" 
—  proceeding  from  want  of  due  discernment  and 
reflection  —  was  the  quality  generally  ascribed  to 
him.  A  well-meaning  man,  perhaps,  but  deficient  in 
depth  and  solidity  of  understanding. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Louis  of  tradition  and  of 
romance  is  the  very  incarnation  of  intellect  mali- 
ciously and  even  diabolically  active.     He  is  a  com- 

'"  "  Quas,  etiam  si  ipse  rex  Ma-  conjectured,  however,  that  Louis  in- 

thusalem  eequaret  annos,  nee  aliud  tended  by  this  ordinance  to  give  a 

prorsus  ageret  quam  venari,  omnes  stimulus  to  the  destructio  i  of  the 

ct  singulas  perlustrare  aut  exhaurire  forests  and  the  consequent  progress 

venationibus  minime  posset."    Ba-  of  agriculture, 
sin,  torn.  ii.  p.  75.  —  It  has  been 


if' 


Www 


M 


190 


POPULAR  OPINION  OF  HIM. 


[book  I. 


pound  of  cunning  and  cruelty.  He  is  a  tyrant  of 
the  most  detestable  species,  deliberately  exerting  his 
power  as  an  engine  of  evil,  not  merely  indifferent 
to  the  calamities  of  others,  but  delighting  to  produce 
those  calamities,  and  gloating  over  the  misery  of 
his  victims.  His  very  name,  and  all  the  associations 
connected  w  ith  it,  inspire  us  with  horror.  His  familiar, 
the  barber  Olivier  le  Mauvais,  popularly  known  as 
"Olivier  le  Diable,"  creeps  with  stealthy  foot  and 
downcast  eye  through  the  crowd  of  courtiers,  who 
recede  before  him,  imwilling  that  even  their  gar- 
ments should  come  in  contact  with  his  person.  His 
trusty  agent,  the  provost-marshal  Tristan  I'Hermite, 
issues  from  the  royal  chamber,  and  is  watched  with 
a  secret  horror  by  those  who  gather  from  his  ma- 
lignant looks  the  nature  of  the  mission  on  which  he 
has  been  despatched."     The  king's  favorite  abode. 


"  It  is  worthy  of  remark  how  lit- 
tle is  actually  known  of  these  two 
personages,  and  how  seldom  their 
names  are  mentioned  in  the  menioirs 
and  documents  of  the  time.  M.  de 
Reiffenberg  (in  a  paper  in  the  Mem. 
de  I'Acaa.  de  Belgique)  has  collect- 
ed the  scattered  and  meagie  facts 
ascertainable  in  relation  to  Olivier 
le  Mauvais,  or  le  Daim,  —  as  he  ob- 
tained the  king's  permission,  but  not 
the  popular  consent,  to  be  called,  — 
of  which  the  most  interesting  is,  that 
he  was  duly  hanged,  a  few  months 
after  his  master's  death,  under  a  sen- 
tence which  somcM-hat  vaguely  con- 
demns him  for  his  "  many  great 
crimes,  delinquencies,  and  malefac- 
tions."   Of  Tristan  I'Hermite,  whose 


activity  in  administering  justice  by 
cord  and  sack  is  occasionally  noticed 
by  the  chroniclers,  still  less  is  dis- 
coverable, so  far  as  concerns  the 
particulars  of  his  career.  But  l 
striking  portrait  is  given  of  hi..i  in 
a  letter  written,  in  1464,  by  Sir 
Robert  Neville,  a  kinsman  of  the 
earl  of  Warwick  and  his  agent  in 
transacting  business  at  the  French 
court.  He  describes  Tristan  as  "  the 
most  diligent,  brisk,  and  keen  spirit 
in  the  whole  kingdom."  He  warns 
his  correspondent,  apparently  the 
governor  of  Calais,  to  be  on  his  guard 
if  Tristan  should  go  thither  —  not  to 
suffer  him  to  speak  with  any  one 
alone,  or  to  have  any  opportunity  of 
discovering  the  weakness  of  the  forts. 


im."    He  warns 


CHAP.  IV.] 


HISTORICALLY  CORRECT. 


191 


at  Plessis-lez-Tours,  is  shunned  as  a  habitation  of 
(lemons.  The  park  is  surrounded  by  deep  pits  plant- 
ed with  rteel-traps.  An  archer  stands  behind  every 
tree,  with  arquebuse  unslung,  ready  to  aim  at  any 
unauthorized  intruder.  The  vaults  beneath  the  cas- 
tle, where  no  ray  of  daylight  ever  penetrates,  are 
filled  with  cages,  eight  feet  square,  in  each  of  which 
a  living  man  has  languished  through  a  night  of 
years,  bereft  of  every  solace,  of  every  hope.  When 
the  morose,  suspicious,  superstitious  king  feels  a 
necessity  for  some  amusement,  some  relaxation  of 
his  cares,  he  descends  into  this  dreary  abyss,  listens 
at  the  doors  of  the  cages,  and  smiles  inwardly  as  he 
hears  the  groans  of  the  wretched  captives. 

We  have  called  this  a  representation  of  tradition 
and  of  romance.  Yet  we  cannot  deny  that  it  has 
a  strong  historical  basis.  Nay,  most  of  the  par- 
ticulars are  indubitable  facts.  The  cages  and  the 
steel-traps,  the  cunning,  the  cruelty,  the  suspicions, 
the  bigotry,  are  authentically  established.  But 
how  shall  we  reconcile  with  these  things  the  admi- 
ration felt  and  expressed  for  Louis  by  the  person 
qualified  beyond  all  others,  by  more  intimate  knowl- 
edge, superior  capacity,  and  even  greater  freedom 
from  partiality,  to  delineate  his  character  ?  Philippe 
de  Commines  pronounces  Louis  the  Eleventh  to  have 


He  will  see  and  understand  every  let  out  many  things,  but  the  person 

thing,  the  writer  adds,  and  will  not  you  know  bid  me  beware  of  him." 

forget  to  report  what  he  has  seen  to  Dupont,  Mem.  de  Commineii,  torn. 

his  master.    "  To  say  truth,  he  is  a  iii.,   Preuves,   pp.  lld-217. 
terrible  man.    Before  I  knew  him  I. 


in;  -'  r  jy 


I- -J/ 


192 


HOW  mS  CAREER  IS  TO  BE  VIEWED.         [book  i. 


been,  of  fill  the  princes  whom  he  hacl  known,  the 
one  who  had  the  fewest  vices.*^  By  this  remark  the 
historian  has  drawn  upon  him;-.elf  the  censure  of 
modern  writers.  Had  he  been  asked  for  an  expla- 
nation, he  would  perhaps  have  pointed  to  the  fact 
that,  while  with  other  princes  considerations  of  policy 
were  often  rendered  inoperative  through  the  influ- 
ence of  passion  or  of  some  mental  infirmity,  —  by 
pride,  indolence,  folly,  or  caprice,  —  Louis  scarcely 
ever  deviated  from  the  line  of  conduct  dictated  by 
a  clear  perception  of  his  interests.  In  other  words, 
the  remark  had  no  reference  to  moral  defects  further 
than  these  might  interfere  with  the  pursuit  of  am- 
bition and  the  struggle  for  power. 

And  it  is  in  this  light  that  we  must  examine  a 
career  which,  viewed  in  any  other,  presents  a  mass 
of  contradictions.  In  that  career  we  meet  with 
scarcely  a  single  trace  of  good  feeling  or  of  right 
principle.  Yet  we  see  a  great  and  necessary  work 
accomplished.  Feudal  anarchy  is  crushed;  the  im- 
perilled unity  of  France  is  secured.  And  this  is 
effected  not  with  the  aid  of  fortune  or  by  a  pre- 
ponderance of  strength,  but  through  the  efforts  of 
an  intellect  ever  watchful  and  never  dispirited,  con- 
tending against  enormous  difficulties  and  ovcrwhelm- 
mg  odds  —  an  intellect  so  keen  and  so  vivacious  as 


:i     i 


m 


'*  •'  Tant  ose  je  bien  dire  de  luy,  I'avoit  cred  plus  saige,  plus  liberal 

h,  son  loz,  qu'il  ne  me  semble  pas  et  plus  vertueux  en  toutes  choses 

que  jamais  j'aye  congneu  nul  prince  que  les  princes  qui  regnoient  avec 

oil  il  y  eust  moino  de  vices  que  en  luy  ct   de  son  temps."     Tom.  iL 

luy."    Prologue,  p.  3.  —  "  Dieu  ...  p.  252. 


[book  I. 


CHAP.  IV.] 


VrVACTTY  OP  fflS  INTELLECT. 


193 


)wn,  the 
nark  the 
isure  of 
m  expla- 

the  fact 

of  policy 
the  influ- 
ity,  — by 
;  scarcely 
ctated  by 
ler  words, 
3ts  further 
uit  of  am- 

examine  a 
its  a  mass 
[neet  with 
)r  of  right 
isary  work 
the  im- 
nd  this  is 
by  a  prc- 
eiforts  of 
iritfcd,  con- 
ivcrwhelm- 
ivacious  as 


Te,  plus  liberal 

toutes  choseB 

ivegnoient  avec 

Ipa."     Tom.  ii. 


to  compel  our  sympathy,  and  render  dormant  that 
aversion  which  its  choice  of  means  would  otherwise 
inspire. 

A  weak  mind  with  the  purest  intentions  can  work 
nothing  but  mischief,  whatever  be  the  task  it  un- 
dertakes. But  a  vigorous  mind  united  with  a  bad 
heart  is  not  necessarily  an  instrument  of  evil.  In 
ceasing  to  be  dauphin  and  becoming  king,  Louis  had 
made  a  greater  change  of  position  than  was  im- 
plied by  the  mere  necessity  for  his  throwing  off  the 
shackles  of  his  former  dependent  state.  He  was 
now  placed  in  circumstances  in  which  his  ambition 
was  no  longer  a  vice,  in  which  his  active  and  subtle 
genius  could  move  freely  without  coming  continually 
in  conflict  with  laws  to  which  there  was  no  respon- 
sive consciousness  in  his  rwn  nature.  He  fought 
against  iiL  natural  enemies.  He  punished  his  rebel- 
lious vassals  or  faithless  ministers.  He  employed 
stealth  and  duplicity  in  a  contest  in  which  not  merely 
his  own  safety,  but  that  of  the  monarchy,  was  at 
stake.  He  grasped  and  exalted  authority  to  which 
no  one  else  had  a  legitimate  claim,  which  no  one 
else  was  so  fitted  to  wield. 

It  deserves  to  be  noticed,  too,  that,  except  at  the 
commencement  of  his  reign,  when  he  was  still  ham- 
pered by  the  mistakes  of  his  earlier  career,  he  made 
no  enemy  where  it  was  possible  to  make  a  friend. 
Morally  isolated,  he  was  intellectually  allied  with 
every  mind  possessed  of  talent  and  adroitness.  On 
persons  so  endowed  he  acted  as  a  magnet.  He 
diligently  sought  them ;  he  took  them  wherever  he 


VOL,  I. 


25 


194 


ins  DESmE  FOR  SYMPATHY. 


[hook  I. 


could  find  them.  He  raised  them  from  obscurity; 
he  drew  them  from  the  ranks  of  his  foes.  He  spared 
no  pains,  he  never  lost  patience,  in  the  endeavor 
to  disarm  the  opposition  or  obtain  the  support  of 
such  as  had  the  power  to  injure  or  to  serve  him. 
He  had  a  boundless  confidence  in  his  own  powers 
of  persuasion,  in  his  ability  to  remove  prejudice,  to 
soften  resentment,  to  render  ductile  the  character 
with  which  he  had  to  deal,  not  by  the  constraint  of 
a  stronger  will,  but  by  gentle  and  dexterous  manip- 
ulation. But  he  did  not  trust  to  the  specious  influ- 
ence of  words  alone.  He  asked  no  favor  for  which 
he  was  not  ready  to  render  a  substantial  equivalent 
Nay,  so  different  was  he  from  most  princes,  who 
imagine  that  they  have  an  unlimited  claim  to  the 
devotion  of  their  servants,  that  ho  oJiose  rather  to 
bestow  great  rewards  for  small  benefits,  gauging 
men's  anticipations  as  well  as  their  abilities,  pay- 
ing them  at  their  own  price  as  became  a  generous 
monarch.^^ 

In  like  manner  he  strove  always  to  win  the  sym- 
pathy and  cooperation  of  his  people — to  identify  the 
nation  with  himself  He  appealed  to  public  opinion ; 
he  created  it.     He  granted  charters  liberally  to  the 


"  He  acted  on  a  maxim  which  the 
Emperor  Charles  V.  and  his  other 
imitators  in  the  sixteenth  century 
seem  to  have  entirely  disregarded. 
*'  Me  diet  davantaige  que,  h,  son  ad- 
vis,  pour  avoir  hiens  en  court,  que 
c'est  plus  grant  heur  k  img  homme, 
quant  le  prince  qu'il  sort  lui  a  faict 
quelque  grant  bien  h  peu  de  desserte 


(pourquoy  il  luy  demoure  fort  obli- 
ge), que  ce  ne  seroit  s'il  luy  avoit 
faict  ung  si  grant  service  que  ledirt 
prince  luy  en  fust  tres  fort  oblige ; 
et  qu'il  ayme  plus  naturellement 
ceulx  qui  luy  sont  tenuz,  qu'il  ne 
faict  ceulx  k  qui  il  est  tenu."  Com- 
mines,  torn.  i.  p.  305. 


m  iii'i 


[book  I. 

obscurity ; 
He  spared 

endeavor 
mpport  of 
Hcrve  liim. 
wn  powers 
irejudice,  to 
13  cliaracter 
onstraint  of 
roiis  manip- 
lecious  influ- 
jY  for  wliicli 
I  eqviivalent. 
princes,  who 
claim  to  the 
>se  rather  to 
fits,  gauging 
.hilities,  pay- 

a  generous 

win  the  sym- 
identify  the 
iblic  opinion ; 
[erally  to  the 

lemoure  fort  obli- 
eroit  8'il  luy  avoit 

service  que  ledirt 

tres  fort  oblige ; 

llus    naturelleraent 

xt  tenuz,  qu'il  ne 
llesttenu."  Com- 
I305. 


CHAP.  :▼.] 


EAGERNESS  FOR  INFORMATION. 


195 


communes,  in  order  that  they  might  become  bulwarks 
against  feudalism.  He  asked  counsel  from  the  rep- 
resentatives of  all  classes,  in  order  that  all  might  be 
committed  to  the  mamtenance  of  his  cause.  He  did 
not  stand  aloof  from  the  world,  like  ordinary  despots, 
seeing  nothing,  cc  iprehending  nothing,  devising 
nothing,  seeking  no  community  with  the  mass  of 
mankind,  offering  a  sullen  resistance  to  the  spirit 
of  progress.  He  did  not  aspire  to  be  regarded  as 
a  god ;  nor  was  he  content  to  set  in  motion  a  ma- 
cliine.  The  play  of  intellect,  the  conflict  of  mind 
with  mind,  the  bustle,  the  struggles,  the  cares  and 
anxieties  of  life,  were  what  he  delighted  in. 

"No  man  ever  lent  an  ear  so  readily  to  others, 
or  inquired  about  so  many  matters,  or  wished  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  so  many  persons."  '*  He 
was  never  heard  to  give  that  answer  which  daily  fell 
from  the  lips  of  many  a  petty  seigneur  whose  rev- 
enues amounted  to  a  few  thousand  livres :  '■  Speak 
to  my  people ;  I  do  not  trouble  myself  about  such 
affairs."  He  desired  to  know  every  thhig ;  ho  forgot 
nothing.'®  He  desired  also  to  be  every  where.  He 
was  never  at  rest ;  his  labors  were  incessant ;  ''  when 
his  body  reposed  his  mind  was  still  at  work."  "  To 
say  truth,  a  kingdom  was  too  little  for  him ;  he  was 
fit  to  have  the  government  of  a  world." '" 


'*  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  84. 

"  "  Aymoit  h  demander  et  enten- 
dre de  toutes  choses.  .  .  .  Aussi  sa 
memoire  estoit  si  grande  qu'il  rete- 
noit  toutes  choses."  Idem,  torn.  i. 
p.  158 ;  torn.  ii.  p.  273. 


>«  "  A  la  verity,  il  serabloit  mieulx 
pour  seigneurir  ung  monde  que  ung 
royaulme."  Commines,  torn.  ii.  p. 
273. 


iill 


H 


I      i 


I 


jEll 


196 


HIS  IMPULSIVENESS  AND  CRAFT. 


[book  t. 


He  had  been  tuto  ^y  adversity,  and  it  was  in 
niversity  that  hi.s  sagacity  was  most  conspicuously 
displayed."  He  was  never  so  serene,  so  cheerful,  as 
when  overtaken  by  misfortune.  When  he  thought 
himself  secure  for  the  moment,  he  was  too  apt  to  let 
people  know  the  real  estimate  which  he  set  upon 
them.  His  sarcasms  flew  nimbly  about,  and  settled 
upon  those  who  were  nearest  and  highest,  and  whose 
skin  was  thinnest.  He  knew  and  confessed  this 
infirmity.  "  My  tongue,"  he  would  say,  "  has  led  me 
into  many  a  scrape ;  it  has  also  given  me  much 
pleasure ;  however,  it  is  right  that  I  should  repair 
the  mischief." 

But  his  greatest  fault  was  his  impatience.  He 
had  all  the  craft  of  a  deliberative  mind,  but  all  the 
impulsiveness  of  a  thoughtless  one.  Time  and  he 
were  sworn  enemies.  His  foresight  was  continually 
running  off  with  him.  He  defeated  his  ovvn  schemes 
by  putting  them  prematurely  into  execution,  and 
precipitated  misfortunes  by  rushing  forward  to  avert 
them.  Such,  at  least,  was  the  case  at  the  opening 
of  his  reign.  —  But  his  situation,  and  that  of  the 
monarchy,  at  this  period,  will  require  some  further 
explanation.'^ 


"  "  Jamais  je  ne  congncuz  s!  saige 
homme  en  adversite."  Idem,  torn.  i. 
p.  304. 

'*  Tliree  contemporaries  of  Louis 
have  described  his  character  from 
personal  knowledge  and  observation. 
The  portrait  drawn  by  Commincs  was 
evidently  a  labor  of  love.  His  own 
nature   strongly  sympathized  with 


that  of  Louis.  The  acuteness,  the 
subtlety,  the  eye  undazzled  by  pomp, 
undimmed  by  emotion,  uncheated  by 
appearances,  the  nervous  vigor,  the 
sarcastic  humor,  —  the  malice,  to 
adopt  his  own  more  expressive  word, 
—  which  distinguish  the  likeness  on 
the  canvas,  are  also  the  characteris- 
tics of  the  artist  himself.    Ch&Jtel- 


ruAV.  IV.]      STABILITY    OF    THE    FRENCH    TIIHONE. 


197 


There  is,  perhaps,  no  country  peopled  by  (VifTercnt 
races  in  which  the  various  elements  have  ])eon  so 
blended,  the  original  distinctions  of  languii;^e,  blood, 
and  custom  so  nearly  obliterated,  as  in  France.  The 
germs,  too,  of  political  unity,  without  which  even 
identity  of  race  does  not  constitute  a  nation,  had,  as  we 
have  noticed  in  a  former  chapter,  been  implaiicod  at  a 
very  early  period.  The  throne  established  by  Clovi?, 
although  it  passed  from  one  dynasty  to  another,  and 
was  often  occupied  by  princes  who  exercised  no 
authority  over  the  greater  portion  of  the  kingdom, 
wrl'  never  overthrown,  and  had  gradually  acquired 
a  claim  to  the  allegiance  and  submission  of  the 
whole  country.  Its  foundations  wero  strength- 
ened and  extended  during  several  succt^sivo  agesj 
and,  had  it  not  been  for  the  disturbing  influ- 
ence of  the  English  wars,  monarchical  power  in 
France  would  have  broken  down  all  the  barriers 
that  opposed   its   progress  at  a  period  anterior   to 


m 


I  lin,  though  an  enemy,  writes  with 
niucli  impartiality,  but  with  far  less 
appreciation.  He  in  the  representa- 
tive of  sentiments  and  ideas  which 
received  a  fatal  shock  from  the  inno- 
vations of  Louis.  lie  mourns  over 
the  disregard  of  pomp  and  ceremo- 
ny, the  sceptical  and  levelling  ten- 
dencies, the  tortuous  and  aggressive 
policy,  which  sullied  the  fountain  of 
chivalry  and  honor,  and  cast  a  stain 
upon  the  Jleurs-de-lys.  But  he  never 
forgets  the  sacrednes^  of  royalty ;  he 
is  guarded  in  his  condemnation  ;  he 
acknowledges  the  sagacity  and  ap- 
plauds the  activity  of  the  French 


monarch.  Basin,  on  the  other  hand, 
treats  neither  the  man  aor  the  office 
with  respect.  lie  assails  Louis  with 
the  heat  of  a  partizau  and  the  rancor 
of  a  personal  foe.  He  excuses  him- 
self for  having  undertaken  the  task 
of  depicting  the  reign  of  the  bloody 
and  perfidious  tyrant  by  the  example 
of  ancient  writerN,  who  have  exhib- 
ited Caligula,  Nero,  Domitian,  and 
Commodus  as  warnings  to  poster- 
ity. Each  of  these,  however,  had 
some  redeeming  quality.  Louis  had 
none.  His  capacity  consisted  in  his 
total  lack  of  conscience. 


198 


EFFECTS  OP  THE  ENOUSII  INVASIONS.        [book  i. 


Ml 


1     !  i 


that  of  our  liLstory.  In  those  Htruggles  for  its  exi.st- 
enco  it  lost  much  of  the  ground  which  it  hud  gained. 
It  could  not  resist,  it  was  even  forced  to  encourage, 
the  reactionary  tendencies  of  feuchdisni.  The  mass 
of  the  nohihty,  it  is  true,  were  greatly  weakened  by 
the  disasters  of  this  period  —  by  the  general  impov- 
erishment of  the  country,  as  well  as  by  the  blood} 
defeats  of  Poitiers  and  Azincourt.  But  tiie  great  feu- 
datories, profiting  alike  by  the  decline  or  extinction 
of  many  noble  families  and  by  the  weakness  of  the 
crown,  extended  their  dominions,  and  rose  to  a  de- 
gree of  power  and  independence  that  threatened  to 
undo  the  work  of  centuries. 

We  have  seen  the  position  occupied  by  Philip  the 
Good.  Besides  his  feudal  sovereignty  over  Burgundy, 
Flanders,  Artois,  and  other  iriiportant- fiefs,  he  had 
obtained  possession,  by  the  treaty  of  Arras,  of  the 
most  important  places  in  Picardy.  The  house  of 
Anjou  was  far  less  powerful ;  but  it  had  added  to 
its  original  domains  Provence,  Lorraine,  and*  Bar,  and 
it  derived  a  certain  degree  of  lustre  from  its  claims 
to  the  kingdom  of  Sicily.  Brittany  had  always  been 
untractable.  In  that  great  province  the  amalgama- 
tion of  races  —  that  fusion  of  various  elements  by 
which  the  national  character  was  formed — had  made 
but  little  progress.  There  the  ancient  language  of 
Gaul  was  still  in  common  use,  and  Celtic  customs  and 
institutions  still  maintained  their  vigor.  The  sove- 
reign acknowledged  a  very  limited  dependence  on 
the  French  crown.  He  entitled  himself  "duke  by  the 
grace  of  God ; "  he  denied  the  appellate  jurisdiction 


CHAP.  IT.)         POWER  OF  THE  GREAT  FEUDATORIES. 


19U 


of  the  Parliament  of  Pari;',  and  he  refu.scd  to  take 
llic  oath  of  allegiance  in  the  usual  form,  or  to  be 
called  the  liegeman  of  the  king  of  France. 

Soutl*  of  Brittany,  Guienne  had  but  recently  been 
recoverccl  from  the  English,  whoso  rule  had  been 
])()pnlar  boili  with  the  nobility  and  with  the  towns. 
(Jn  the  north,  between  Brittany  and  Picardy,  was 
tliu  great  provhice  of  Normandy  —  the  heritage  of 
the  Pliuitagenets,  associated  with  the  glory  of  the 
English  conquerors,  fdled  with  the  memorials  of  their 
sway,  twice  wrested  from  their  grasp,  to  be  yet,  per- 
haps, for  the  second  time,  regained. 

All  the  provinces  of  the  sea-coast,  on  the  west 
and  on  the  north,  were  either  practically  inlepen- 
dont  of  the  crown  or  attached  to  it  by  new  and 
feeble  ties.     France  Was  in  the  condition  of  a  for- 
tress, whose  outworks  are  already  in  the  hands  of 
^!ie  foe  or  manned  by  garrisons  of  doubtful  fidelity. 
Louis  the  Eleventh  had  ascended  the  throne  only  a 
few  years  after  the  conclusion,  or  what  might  rather 
be  regarded  as  the  temporary  cessation,  of  a  war  — 
itself  the  sequel  of  former  wars  similar  in  origin  and 
in  results  —  during  which  the  fate  of  France  had 
been  suspended  in  a  trembling  balance.      Nothing 
was  more  probable  than  another  alliance  between 
the  foreign  enemy  and  the  haughty  and  uncertam 
friend,  to  be  followed  by  another  invasion,  another 
conquest.     In  the  very  year  in  which  Louis  began 
his  reign,  the  crown  of  England,  after  what  seemed 
the  final  defeat  of  the  Lancastrians,  had  been  placed 
upon  the  head  of  a  prince,  young,  brave,  ambitious, 


I*    it. 


)     ; 


4 

\  r 
11 


t  \ 


!r 


200 


APPREHENSIONS  OF  LOUIS. 


[book  1. 


fond  of  war,  the  descendant  by  an  elder  branch  of 
Edward  the  Third,  the  friend  and  companion  in  arms 
of  Warwick.  Wliat  surer  way  for  the  new  sove- 
reign to  estiibhsh  his  dynasty,  to  ground  himself  in 
the  affections  of  his  people,  than  by  emulatinj^  the 
achievementAj  which  were  still  that  people's  proudest 
boast  ? 

Charles  the  Seventh,  little  inclined  by  disposition 
to  a  life  of  conflict  and  of  turmoil,  but  reared  in  the 
midst  of  convulsions,  had  been  content  to  provide 
against  the  dangers  and  difficulties  of  the  hour,  and 
to  purchase  immediate  relief  by  concessions  that 
were  Ihiught  with  future  peril.  The  restless,  ad- 
venturous, ftir-sighted,  but  inexperienced  Louis  saw 
nothing  but  weakness  and  insecurity  in  the  position 
bequeathed  to  him  by  his  father.  Tliere  could  be 
no  safety  for  France  while  the  towns  on  the  Somme 
remained  in  possession  of  the  duke  of  Burgundy; 
or,  if  the  loyalty  and  peaceful  inclinations  of  Philip 
were  a  pledge  of  safety,  the  more  reason  for  seeking 
restitution  before  Philip's  rights  were  transmitted 
with  his  power  to  a  prince  of  a  different  character. 
The  towns  of  the  Somme  were  the  necessary  defences 
of  the  capital.  How  was  it  possible  for  the  king  to 
live  tranquilly  in  Paris  while  a  vassal  over  whom  he 
exercised  no  control  was  posted  at  Amiens  ? 

Here,  then,  was  the  breach  that  required  to  be 
closed  before  any  further  measures  were  attempted. 
Louis,  from  the  moment  of  his  accession,  had  fixed 
his  eyes  upon  these  towns.  It  had  been  stipulated 
by  the  treaty  that  they  should  be  surrendered  on 


IIP 


CHAP.  IV.]  HIS  ALLIANCE  \VITH  THE  CROYS. 


201 


the  payment  of  four  hundred  thousand  crowns.  But 
no  guaranty  had  been  given  by  which  to  enforce 
compliance  with  this  stipulation.  It  could  hardly 
be  imagined  that  a  proposal  to  redeem  them  would 
be  met  in  any  other  way  than  by  evasion.  It  was 
even  believed  that  Charles  the  Seventh  had  given  a 
verbal  promise  that  he  would  not  demand  their  res- 
titution during  Philip's  lifetime.  Nevertheless  Louis 
was  determined  that  they  should  be  restored.  And 
here  it  seemed  that  his  early  misfortunes  —  his  exile 
and  long  residence  in  the  Netherlands  —  had  not 
been  wholly  without  compensating  benefits.  His 
friendship  with  Philip,  his  intimate  acquaintance  with 
the  character  of  the  duke  and  of  the  members  of  his 
family  and  court,  might  now  stand  him  in  good  stead. 
Perhaps  at  this  moment  he  wished  that  he  had  shown 
himself  somewhat  more  complying  to  his  fair  uncle 
during  the  latter's  visit  to  Paris ;  that  ho  had  been 
less  lavish  of  fine  words,  and  less  thrifty  of  substan- 
tial gratitude.  Yet  in  one  instance  he  had  not  been 
ungrateful.  It  does  not  appear  that  he  had  ever 
received  any  service  from  the  Croys ;  but  to  them 
he  had  been  grateful  in  anticipation.  He  had  not 
forgotten  that,  however  he  might  treat  the  duke 
himself,  it  was  not  politic  to  slight  the  duke's  favor- 
ites. He  had  bestowed  a  valuable  estate  upon 
Antony  do  Croy,  and  had  given  him  a  prospective 
claim  to  the  grand-mastership  of  France,  the  highest 
post  in  the  royal  household.  He  now  took  the  whole 
family  under  his  protection.  He  loaded  the  younger 
members  of  it  with  benefactions.     He  made  John  de 


VOL.  I. 


36 


i  ■ 

■i  ;■! 

i 

„  .    .,.  J 

^il 

i: 

■  T  ^fViHjjJl 

1 

202 


\  I 


PHILIP'S  FAILING  HEALTH. 


[book  I. 


Croy  his  councillor  and  chamberlain.  They  were 
made  to  perceive  that,  however  weighty  their  obli- 
gations to  their  own  sovereign,  it  was  no  bad  thing 
to  have  the  friendship  of  a  king  of  France. 

Their  disposition  to  serve  him  being  thus  secured,  it 
remained  to  be  seen  whether  they  had  the  power — 
whether  their  influence  with  the  duke  would  extend 
so  flir  as  to  lead  him  to  abandon  an  advantage  the 
immense  value  of  which  he  could  hardly  have  failed 
to  appreciate.  Philip  was  now  approaching  the  verge 
of  what  has  been  assigned  as  the  duration  of  human 
life.  His  constitution  was  good ;  but  he  had  never 
practised  the  severe  rules  by  which  his  son's  iron 
frame  preserved  its  unifonn  vigor.  His  health  had 
been  seriously  impaired  by  the  banquets  and  festiv- 
ities in  which  he  had  indulged,  with  evfn  more  than 
his  usual  freedom,  during  his  visit  to  Paris ;  and,  after 
his  return,  in  the  spring  of  1462,  he  had  a  long  and 
dangerous  illness.  The  public  anxiety,  on  this  occa- 
sion, afforded  the  strongest  proof  of  his  popularity. 
The  good  duke,  who  was  only  harsh  and  severe  when 
his  commands  were  disputed,  when  his  fiery  temper 
was  roused,  —  whose  gay  arid  sumptuous  tastes  had 
fiirnishod  the  Netherlanders  with  a  constant  succes- 
sion oi  fetes,  and  given  the  lustre  of  the  most  brilliant 
court  in  Christendom  to  their  commercial  capital, — 
was  not  to  be  suffered  to  leave  them  if  supplications 
to  Heaven  could  avail.  There  was  no  end  of  prayers 
and  processions,  in  which  the  inhabitants,  of  every 
rank  and  age,  took  part.  During  his  convalescence 
his  physicians  ordered  his  head  to  be  shaved  j  and 


CUAP.  IT.] 


PHILIP'S  FAILING  HEALTH. 


203 


his  complaisant  courtiers  hastened  to  make  a  similar 
change  in  their  appearance.  If  any  of  the  younger 
nobles  hesitated  to  part  with  their  curl'ng  locks, 
officers  appointed  for  the  purpose  seized  the  unwil- 
ling youths  whenever  they  showed  themselves  in 
public,  and  compelled  them  to  undergo  the  prescribed 
operation  on  the  spot.^*  The  Duchess  Isabella,  in- 
I'ormed  of  her  husband's  situation,  had  left  her  con- 
ventual retreat  to  attend  upon  him;  and  the  count 
of  Charolais,  during  several  successive  nights,  watched 
by  his  bedside  with  affectionate  solicitude.  In  his 
intervals  of  consciousness  the  duke  remonstrated 
with  his  son,  and  urged  him  to  take  necessary  re- 
pose. "  Better,"  he  said,  "  that  one  should  die  than 
both ;  better  that  I  should  go  than  you."^  After 
.some  months'  confinement  to  his  chamber  he  was 
able  to  resume  his  ordinary  mode  of  life. 

But  the  pith  and  vigor  of  his  life  were  gone.  He 
was  growing  old ;  and  the  world  around  him,  stirred 
by  a  new  influence,  instead  of  declining  with  his 
decline,  or  lapsing  into  stillness  in  order  that  he,  so 
long  its  paragon  and  arbiter,  might  end  liis  days 
in  comfort  and  tranquillity,  was  becoming  agitated 
iuid  turbulent.  The  war  between  the  count  of  Cha- 
rolais and  the  Croj^s,  notwithstanding  the  gracious 
endeavors  of  Louis  to  eflect  a  reconciliation,  blazed 


'"  Lamarche,  torn.  ii.  p.  227.  —  adds,  "  Toutesfois  sondit  fils  ne  le 

'•  Se  trouvorent  plus  de  cinq  cens  voullut  oncqnes  laisser ;  nins  quant 

nobles  homines  qui  pour  I'amour  du  son  pere  le  cuidoil  reposant,  'I  estoit 

thic  sc  firent  ralre,  comme  luy."  toujours  autour  de  lui  qu'ii  ne  le 

*"  Duclercq,  torn.  iii.  p.  205. — He  veoit  point." 


t   1 


' "  liii  ^n 


204       DISSENSIONS  IN  THE  BURGUNDIAN  COURT,    [book  i. 

forth  openly  and  fiercely.  The  country,  as  well  as 
the  court,  was  filled  with  its  clamors.  Their  connec- 
tion with  the  king  had  thrown  fresh  odium  on  the 
favorites,  and  increased  the  difficulties  of  their  posi- 
tion. They  were  still  powerful  enough  to  »esist  the 
attacks  directed  against  themselves,  but  they  were 
less  able  to  ward  off  those  which  were  directed  against 
their  adherents.  One  of  the  duke's  chamberlains 
was  tried  and  put  to  death  on  a  charge  of  having 
conspired  against  Charles's  life.  The  next  blow  was 
aimed  at  a  higher  mark.  John  of  Burgundy,  count 
of  Nevers,  a  grandson  of  Philip  the  Bold,  had  ranged 
himself  on  the  side  of  the  ministers,  instigated  by 
some  private  disputes  with  Charles,  by  an  old  en- 
mity with  the  count  of  Saint-Pol,  andj^as  was  com- 
monly suspected,  by  an  ambition  loftier  than  was 
consistent  with  his  legitimate  pretensions  or  with 
his  chances  of  succeeding  to  the  sovereignty  of 
the  Burgundian  dominions.  The  charge,  however, 
openly  preferred  against  him  was  of  a  dc  *ker  nature. 
He  was  accused  of  having  in  his  house  three  waxen 
figures,  on  which  he  practised,  with  the  assistance  of 
an  apostate  monk,  certain  diabolical  incantations  — 
his  supposed  object  being  to  obtain  for  himself  the 
favor  of  the  French  king  and  the  duke  of  Burgund y, 
and  to  cause  the  count  of  Charolais  to  waste  aAvav 
and  perish  by  a  lingering  death.^'  This  was  a  com- 
mon form  of  sorcery,  in  practice  as  well  as  in 
belief.''^    Nevers,  instead  of  awaiting  his  trial  by  the 

*'  Duclercq,  torn.  lii.  p.  236,  et        *'  The  story  of  Elinor  Cobham, 
•teq.     Lenglet,  torn.  ii.  p.  392.  wife  of  the  "  good  Duke  Humphrey," 


T.    [book  I. 


CHAP.  IV.] 


CHARLES  RETIRES  TO  GORCUM. 


205 


s  well  as 
ir  connec- 
[Q.  on  the 
iheir  posi- 
nesist  the 
hey  were 
ed  against 
imberlains 
of  having 
;  blow  was 
ndy,  count 
lad  ranged 
tigated  by 
an  old  en- 
}  was  com- 
than  was 
IS  or  with 
reignty   oi' 
i,  however, 
ker  nature, 
u'ee  waxen 
jsistance  of 
intations  — 
himself  the 
Burgundy, 
vaste  away 
was  a  corn- 
well   as   in 
trial  by  the 

Elinor  Cobham, 
uke  Humphrey," 


(lolden  Fleece,  threw  up  his  appointments,  and  re- 
tired into  France ;  while  Charles,  foiled  in  some 
farther  attempts  against  his  enemies,  sullenly  with- 
drew from  the  court,  and  took  up  his  residence  at 
the  castle  of  Gorcum,  on  the  coast  of  Holland. 

Advantage  was  taken  of  his  absence,  and  of  his 
father's  enfeebled  condition,  to  carry  out  the  scheme 
for  the  redemption  of  the  mortgaged  towns.  By 
what  arguments  the  Croys  were  enabled  to  win  the 
consent  of  Philip  we  are  not  informed.  The  string  on 
which  they  played  was  doubtless  his  desire  to  m.ain- 
tain  his  present  peaceful  relations  with  tlie  French 
monarch.  Now  that  his  faculties  were  on  the  wane, 
lie  was  fain  to  purchase  by  concessions  the  continu- 
ance of  that  peace  which  had  been  purchased  of  him, 
bv  the  like  concessions,  when  his  faculties  were  in 
their  prime.  Or  he  may  have  doubted  the  king's  abil- 
ity to  furnish  the  required  sum.  But  hardly  had  his 
compliance  been  extorted  when  half  the  amount  was 
placed  in  his  hands,  and  his  written  promise  obtained 
that  the  towns  should  be  given  up  on  the  payment 
of  the  remainder.  It  was  not  in  the  character  of 
Louis  to  relax  in  the  pursuit  of  any  object  till  it  was 
definitivelj'^  secured.     Yet  to  raise  on  the  instant  two 


t'liniishes  a  parallel  case,  about  twen- 
ty years  earlier.  But  more  than 
twenty  years  later,  another  duke  of 
Gloucester  (Richard  III.)  made  a 
similar  accusation  against  "  that 
witch  "  his  brother's  widow.  Mack- 
intosh justly  remarks  that  "  the 
sorcerers  themselves  doubtless  trust- 
ed as  much  the  potent  malignity  of 


their  own  spells  as  other  men  dread- 
ed them."  Necromancy  was  not 
merely  an  art  or  a  profession,  but  a 
creed.  Its  votaries  composed  a  sect, 
held  private  assemblies  for  worship, 
and  offered  masses  to  Satan.  A 
minute  description  of  these  blasphe- 
mous rites  is  given  by  Llorente,  Hist, 
de  rinquisition,  torn.  ii.  pp.  432-443. 


I 


I 


206 


MORTGAGED  TOWNS  REDEEMED. 


[book  I, 


hundred  thousand  gold  crowns  was,  in  the  fifteenth 
century,  no  easy  matter  even  for  c  liing  of  France. 
The  resources  of  his  exchequer  were  exhausted ; 
there  were  no  capitalists  ready,  or  indeed  able,  to 
advance  the  money  upon  his  simple  bond.  Yot 
he  could  not  believe  that  every  one  was  not  as 
anxious  as  himself  to  complete  the  transaction,  so 
necessary  for  the  security  of  the  kingdom,  so  liable 
to  be  defejited  by  delay.  He  refused  to  listen  to 
the  doubts  and  demurs  started  by  the  officers  of 
the  treasury.  "  He  told  us,"  writes  a  bewildered 
functionar}'^  to  a  colleague,  "  that  there  were  people 
in  Pnris  who  would  lend  the  money,  and  that,  in 
such  a  case  as  this,  ten  thousand  livres  might  be 
found  in  one  place,  and  thirty  thousand  in  another. 
These  were  all  the  instructions  we  could  get  from 
him ;  and  he  sent  us  off  with  so  little  deliberation 
that  we  had  scarce  time  to  draw  on  our  boots." '^ 
Nor  did  this  irregular  mode  of  conducting  busi- 
ness, embarrassing  as  it  was  for  the  poor  treasurers, 
ftiil  of  tlie  desired  results.  There  was  no  resistlnii; 
the  whirlwind  which  Louis  had  set  in  motion.  Some 
of  the  wealthy  religious  establishments,  and  several 
towns  which  had  received  from  the  king  an  exten- 
sion of  their  privileges,  were  found  willing  to  con- 
tribute. As  a  last  resort,  violent  hands  were  laid 
upon  a  fund  in  the  possession  of  tlie  Parliament 
—  the  property  of  widows  and  orphans,  preserved, 
as  in  an  inviolable  sanctuary,  in  the  vaults  of  Notre 

"  Lettre  du  Sieur  Chevalier,  Lenglet,  torn.  ii.  p.  400 


;  1 


CHAP.  IV.] 


MORTGAGED  TOWNS  REDEE^HED. 


207 


Dame.^  "Within  a  month  after  the  payment  of  the 
first  instalment,  on  October  8,  14G3,  the  astonished 
and  rehictant  creditor  was  called  upon  to  sign  a 
receipt  in  full.  "  Croy,  Croy,"  he  was  heard  to  mut- 
ter, "it  is  hard  to  serve  two  masters." -'^ 

In  fact,  the  Croys,  led  onward  by  their  adroit 
tempter,  had  become  entangled  in  a  labyrinth  of 
dangers  and  perplexities.  Their  quarrel  with  the 
count  of  Charolais  —  originally  a  mere  private  matr 
ter,  a  family  dispute,  which  Philip  alone  was  compe- 
tent to  decide  —  had  now  become  an  affair  of  pubhc 
policy,  in  which  the  subjects  of  the  duke,  the  people 
of  Flanders  and  of  Artois,  who  by  the  surrender  of 
Picardy  had  lost  their  frontier  defences,  could  not 
fail  to  take  an  interest.  At  their  request,  Charles 
liad  sent  two  of  the  principal  members  of  his  house- 
hold to  remonstrate  with  his  father  against  the  step 
which  he  was  about  to  take.  He  had  also  sent  a 
message  to  the  king,  begging  him  to  desist,  for  the 
present  at  least,  from  his  intentions.  These  appeals 
proving  fruitless,  it  followed,  as  a  necessary  result, 
that  the  relations  between  Charles  and  Louis  began 
to  assume  a  clear  and  determinate  shape.  Both  par- 
ties might  still  dissemble ;  but  it  was  impossible  that 
cither  of  them  should  henceforth  be  deceived.  Up 
to  this  time  the  king  had  never  ceased  to  profess  the 

'*  Rasin  (torn.  ii.  cap.  21)  seizes  **  Chastellain,  p.  260.  —  The  doc- 

upon  tliis  act  as  a  theme  for  vehe-  uments  relative  to  the  redemption  of 

ment  declamation.      The    "  forced  the  mortgaged  towns  may  be  found 

loan  "  was,  however,  repaid  with  in-  in  Lcnglet,  torn.  ii.  pp.  392-403. 
tercst.    All  governments  have  not 
been  as  honest 


ill 


ii  i?!i 


208       RELATIONS  BETWEEN  CHARLES  AND  LOUIS,  [book  i. 

strongest  affection  for  his  fair  cousin.  No  ordinary 
friendship  could  satisfy  the  wannth  of  his  feelings. 
Charles  was  "  the  person  in  all  the  world  whom  he 
loved  the  best  and  whom  he  trusted  the  most" — 
his  chosen  counsellor  and  confidant,  "  by  whose  sole 
advice  he  was  resolved  to  be  guided."^"  Who  was 
the  num  at  the  French  court  admitted  to  the  closest 
intimacy  by  Louis,  employed  by  him  on  the  most 
delicate  missions,  having  access  to  his  chamber  at 
all  hoiu's  whether  the  king  were  sleeping  or  awake  ? 
No  other  than  Guillaume  Biche,  the  former  servant 
and  still  the  constant  visitor  of  the  count  of  Charo- 
lais.^~  "  You  and  your  Biche  must  confer  upon  this 
matter, —  you  and  no  third  one, —  and  give  the  king 
your  advice,"  was  a  message  sent  to  the  count  so 
late  as  in  April  of  this  year,  (1463.)^ 

And  yet  from  the  first  Charles  could  never  have 
been  altogether  blinded  by  such  professions.  The 
great  fear  entertained  by  Louis  was  that  of  a  secret 
alliance  between  the  heir  of  the  Burgundian  domin- 
ions and  the  duke  of  Brittany.  He  had  yielded  the 
point  in  dispute  as  to  the  form  in  wliich  the  duke 
should  do  homage  for  his  fief  Then,  to  give  him  a 
mark  of  his  confidence,  he  appointed  him  to  a  post. 


*•  "  Le  Roy,  ainsi  qu'il  le  m'eRcript 
sc  veult  conduire  .  .  .  par  vous  seul 
et  non  par  autre.  .  .  .  Vous  estes  la 
personne  de  tout  le  monde  qu'il  ayme 
le  mieulx,  et  en  qui  il  se  fye  le  plus." 
Lettre  de  Charles  de  Mehm  au  comte 
de  Charolais,  Dupont,  Mem.  de  Com- 
mines,  (Preuves,)  torn.  iii.  p.  200. 

"  "  Avoient  les  sergens  et  huis- 


siers  d'armes  et  tons  aultres  de  la 
chambre  expres  cominandement  du 
Roy  que,  a  toutte  heure,  feust  nuyt, 
feust  jour,  feust  le  Roy  couchie  ou 
endormy,  on  lui  ouvrist  la  cham- 
bre sdns  conUeddict."  Chastellain, 
p.  163. 

*"  Dupont,  M^m.  de  CommineB, 
ubi  supra. 


I'    s 


CHAP.  IT.]  RELATIONS  BETWEEN  CHARLES  AND  LOUIS.     209 

And  to  what  post?  That  of  lieutenant  and  gov- 
ernor of  Normandy,  the  same  which  he  had  already 
conferred  upon  the  count  of  Charolais.  Not  that  he 
revoked  the  appointment  of  the  latter;  he  left  the 
matter  to  be  settled  between  the  parties,  or  rather 
to  become  a  source  of  mutual  jealousy  and  ani- 
mosity. But  a  very  different  result  ensued.  In  this 
instance,  if  the  design  of  Louis  were  not  apparent, 
there  could  be  no  doubt  of  his  insincerity;  and  it 
was  not  long  before  envoys  and  friendly  messages 
began  to  pass  between  the  coasts  of  Brittany  and 
Holland. 

Louis  had,  in  fact,  been  obliged  to  choose  between 
the  friendship  of  the  Croys  and  that  of  the  count  of 
Charolais.  He  could  not  hesitate  between  the  two. 
The  advantages  were  in  the  one  case  immediate,  in 
the  other  only  prospective.  But  this  was  not  the 
chief  considciation  that  decided  him.  The  ministers 
might  be  purchased  with  honors  and  emoluments  — 
gifts  which  he  could  well  afford  to  bestow.  But  the 
heir  of  Burgundy  and  the  Netherlands,  the  great  feu- 
dal chieftain,  would  be  satisfied  only  by  the  renuncia- 
tion of  a  line  of  policy  the  pursuit  of  which  must  be 
the  sole  motive  of  Louis  in  courting  any  man's  friend- 
ship. Their  interests,  in  short,  v/ere  incompatible  ; 
their  hostility  was  inevitable.  Louis,  it  is  true,  was 
provided  with  an  armory  of  blandishments  —  fair 
promises  and  flattering  speeches.  But  Charles  was 
precisely  the  man  on  whom  such  weapons  had  no 
effect.  His  was  a  most  impracticable  character. 
The  king  perceived  it  to  be  so,  and  threw  away  the 


VOL.  I. 


27 


r 


! 


;   II 


o 


10      RELATIONS  BET>VEEN  ClIARLES  AND  LOUIS,    [book 


: 


« Mif 


useless  imisk.  He  .stopped  the  payment  of  Cliarles'n 
pension.  He  placed  the  government  of  the  newly 
recovered  towns  in  tlie  hands  of  the  count  of  Nevers. 
He  made  strenuous  efforts  to  gain  over  the  count  of 
Saint-Pol.  He  encouraged  Philip  to  believe  that  his 
son  had  rebellious  designs  against  him.  He  endeav- 
ored, in  short,  to  put  his  enemy  in  a  state  of  com- 
plete isolation. 

Yet  there  was  one  tie  which  it  was  impossible  for 
the  king  to  sever.  The  duke  of  Brittany  stood  in 
the  same  position  towards  him  as  the  count  of 
Charolais.  And  Louis  was  tormented  with  the  ap- 
prehension that  this  alliance  would  be  opened  to 
admit  a  tliird  party  —  that  the  vessels  which  carried 
messages  between  Brittany  and  Holliuid  would  soon 
have  occasion  to  stop  at  England  in  their  way. 
What,  at  this  time,  tlierefore,  chiefly  occupied  his 
thoughts,  was  the  means  of  negotiating  at  once  a 
solid  treaty  with  Edward  the  Fourth.  Such  a  treaty, 
he  well  knew,  was  not  to  be  obtained  by  mere  formal 
methods  of  diplomacy.  A  private  interview  between 
himself  and  Warw  ick  scqmed  to  him  an  indispcnsar 
ble  preliminary.  The  "king-maker"  was  supposed 
to  exercise  an  unbounded  influence  with  his  king. 
It  would  go  hard  but  Louis  would  find  the  means 
of  obtaining  an  influence  with  the  "king-maker." 
Warwick  hjid  engaged  to  meet  him,  but,  detained  in 
England  by  other  aflairs,  failed  to  keep  the  appoint- 
ment. He  promised,  however,  if  further  delayed,  to 
send  his  brother,  the  bishop  of  Exeter,  in  his  place. 
Lingering  in  Picardy,  in  anxious  expectation  of  the 


3.    [book  I. 


cnxr.  IV.] 


THE  KINO'S  VISrr  TO  HESDIN. 


211 


Charlea'H 
ic  newly 
f  Nevers. 
count  of 
3  that  his 
e  endeav- 
e  of  coiii- 

ossible  for 
\f  stood  hi 
count  of 
th  the  ap- 
opened  to 
ich  carried 
»vould  soon 
their  way. 
jcupied  his  ' 
at  once  a 
■h  a  treaty, 
leve  formal 
w  between 
indispcnsa- 
,s  Hupposed 
his  king, 
the  means 
ing-niaker." 
detained  in 
he  appointr 
delayed,  to 
n  his  place. 
ition  of  the 


arrival  of  the  earl  or  his  deputy,  Ix)uis  found  leisure 
to  pay  a  visit  to  the  duke  of  Burgundy  at  Ilesdin, 
in  the  neighboring  province  of  Artois.  He  intended, 
probably,  to  bring  Philip  into  the  alliance.  At  all 
events,  he  knew  the  importance  of  nursing  hi«  pres- 
ent friendly  relations  with  the  duke  by  those  flat- 
tering attentions  which  Philip  loved  to  receive  and 
\vliich  Louis  knew  so  well  how  to  bestow. 

Tiie  castle  of  Hesdin  was  a  favorite  sinnmer  resi- 
dence of  the  Burgundian  sovereign.  By  a  stranger, 
who  accidentally  found  himself  within  its  walls,  it 
might  have  been  mistaken  for  the  haunt  of  whim- 
.sical  and  malicious  genii.  Its  principal  gallery  was 
a  complete  museum  of  diahkrm,  being  secretly  sur- 
rounded by  ingenious  mechanical  contrivances  for 
putting  into  operation  the  broadest  practical  jokes. 
The  unsuspicious  visitor  found  himself  performing, 
quite  involuntarily,  the  part  of  Pantaloon.  If  he  laid 
liis  hand  upon  any  article  of  furniture,  he  was  saluted 
with  a  shower  of  spray,  besmeared  with  soot,  or  be- 
powdered  with  flour.  When  a  numerous  company 
were  assembled,  the  ceiling,  painted  and  gilded  in 
imitation  of  the  starry  sky,  would  be  suddenly  over- 
cast ;  a  snow-storm  followed,  or  a  torrent  of  rain 
accompanied  by  thunder  and  lightning.  The  water 
even  ascended  by  fountains  through  the  floor,  for 
the  especial  discomfort  of  the  ladies.'"'  The  guests, 
attempting  to  escape,  only  plunged  into  fresh  embar- 

'"  "  Partout  dessoubz  le  pavement    Laborde,  Lea  Dues  de  Bourgogne, 
aultrcs  conduitz   et    engiens    pour     (Preuves,)  torn.  5.  p.  271. 
mouUier  les  dames  par  dessoubz." 


r.::!i{l^^  ■Ml 


If'  ii'  ■ 


212 


THE  KINGS  VISIT  TO  HESDIN. 


[MOS  I. 


rasaments.  If  they  sought  egress  by  the  door,  they 
had  to  cross  a  trap,  which,  being  suddenly  withdrawn, 
dropped  them  into  a  bath  or  into  a  large  sack  fdled 
with  featliers.  If  they  opened  a  window,  they  wero 
blinded  by  jets  of  water,  and  the  aperture  closed  again 
with  a  violent  noise.  Meanwhile  they  were  pursued 
by  masked  figures,  who  pelted  them  with  little  bulls 
or  belal)ored  them  with  sticks.'"'  It  is  not  probable 
that  Louis  —  although  the  approaches  to  his  own 
castle  at  Tours  presented  a  much  more  serious  or- 
deal —  was  compelled  personally  to  contribute  to 
the  amusement  of  his  host  by  undergoing  a  recep- 
tion of  this  kind ;  but  we  may  well  believe  that  no 
one  would  have  witnessed  the  exhibition  at  another's 
expense  \vith  more  hearty  enjoyment.  " 

His  visit  afforded  Philip  a  welcome  opportunity  for 
the  indulgence  of  his  hospitable  inclinations.  Every 
day  he  gave  a  splendid  entertainment,  followed  in 
the  evening  by  a  ball.  But  Louis,  though  not  de- 
ficient in  social  powers,  had  no  strong  passion  for 
brilliant  gayeties.  He  preferred  the  pleasure  of  a 
quiet  conversation  with  his  fair  imcle,  in  which  he 
sometimes  played  his  old  part,  and  entertained  the 
duke  with  lively  sallies  or  allusions  to  well  remem- 
bered scenes,  and  sometimes  turned  the  discussion 
to  more  important  topics. 

One  day,  while  they  were  riding  together  in  the 

^  A  full  description  of  these  "  ou-  his  yearly  salary  —  may  be  found 

vrages  de  joyeuset^  et  plaisance "  —  in  Laborde,  Dues   de  Bourgogne, 

as  they  are  termed  by  the  inventor,  (Preuves,)  torn.  i.  pp.  268-lt71.  And 

Colart  le  Voleur,  in  a  receipt  for  see  torn.  ii.  p.  213. 


cuAt,  ly.} 


TUE  KINO'S  Yisrr  TO  UBSDIN. 


213 


II 


forest,  he  BUggested  that  Philip  should  intrust  him 
witii  the  charge  of  compelling  the  count  of  Charolais 
to  return  to  hia  father's  court  and  submit  to  his 
fiitlier's  authority.  He  had  previously,  through  an 
indirect  channel,  given  a  hint  to  the  same  effect.^' 
Tlie  proposal,  which  had  before  remained  unanswered, 
WHS  now  civilly  declined,  on  the  ground  that  such 
mutters  were  of  too  trifling  a  nature  to  occupy  the 
attention  of  so  great  a  prince.  The  king,  however, 
persisted  in  his  assurances  of  the  pleasure  he  should 
feel  in  undertaking  the  conunission,  and  of  the  ease 
with  which  he  could  execute  it  "  Par  la  Pasqiie- 
Dieu"  he  said,  "  I  will  engage,  whether  he  be  in 
Holland  or  in  Friesland,  to  find  the  means  of  making 
liini  listen  to  reason.  What  say  you,  fair  uncle?" 
His  pertinacity  may  have  had  the  effect  of  recall- 
ing to  Philip's  mind  a  train  of  events  which  had 
ccrtoinly  slipped  from  his  own  memory.  After  his 
early  troubles  had  been  brought  to  a  happy  conclu- 
sion by  his  father's  death,  Louis  seems  ever  to  have 
regarded  with  a  peculiar  horror  any  example  brought 
under  his  notice  of  filial  disobedience.  The  duke, 
thus  pressed,  assumed  at  length  an  air  of  haughty 
reserve,  and  replied,  with  emphasis,  "  Monseigneur, 
my  son  is  —  my  son;  and  I  will  treat  him  as  such. 


II 
ti 


"  "  Dira  h,  mondit  Sieiir  de  Bour- 
pogne  que  le  Roy  a  scou  les  entre- 
prises  que  M.  de  Charolais  son  fils 
fait  ii  I'encontre  de  luy,  dont  il  a  cstd 
et  est  fort  desplaisant,  et  qu'il  est 
conclud  et  deliberd  de  ayder,  secou- 
rir  et  favoriser  mondit  Sieur  de  Bour- 


gogne  Jl  I'encontre  de  M.  de  Charo- 
lais de  tout  son  pouvoir,  sans  espar- 
gner  corps  ne  bien,  et  qu'il  luy  semble 
qu'en  bien  peu  de  temps  la  chose 
sera  mise  ii  fin  et  conclusion,"  &c 
Instruction  &  Maistre  Estienne  Che- 
valier, Lenglet,  torn.  ii.  p.  393. 


,».,.^^-. 


214 


THE  KING'S  VlSrr  TO  HESDIN. 


[book  I, 


1   ^  ! 


i  .,i^S^ 


'   '  } 


m- 


And,  though  he  may  choose  to  absent  himself  from 
me  at  present,  I  a:.:  well  convinced  that,  had  I  oc- 
casion for  his  services,  he  would  come  to  me  at  once." 
Then,  under  pretext  of  giving  due  precedence  to 
his  sovereign,  he  slackened  his  rein,  and  fell  into 
conversation  with  the  gentlemen  of  his  suite.** 

Louis  was  not  a  man  to  be  disconcerted  by  a  rebuff 
of  this  kind.  It  was  his  favorite  maxim  that  "  when 
Pride  rides  before,  Misfortune  follows  fast  behind."  ^ 
After  his  departure  from  Hesdin  he  sent  his  queen, 
and  her  sister  the  princess  of  Piedmont,  to  spend  a 
few  days  with  the  duke.  This  well-timed  courtesy 
restored  Philip  to  his  accustomed  good-humor.  It 
delighted  him  to  exhibit  to  these  illustrious  ladies 
a  scene  of  gayety  and  splendor  to  which  they  were 
wholly  unaccustomed ;  to  sit  beside  them  on  a  dais 
while  the  glittering  bevy  of  dames- and  cavaliers 
passed  before  them  in  the  circling  dance ;  to  watch 
the  ecstasy  with  which  they  were  inspired,  and  listen 
to  their  soft  complaints  as  they  drew  a  comparison 
between  this  paradise  and  the  home  to  which  they 
were  too  soon  to  return.  Never,  they  exclaimed,  had 
they  known  what  pleasure  was  till  now,  and  seven 
years  hence  they  should  still  look  back  upon  this 
time  with  infinite  regret.  Their  ladies  also  whispered 
to  each  other  that  a  single  day  of  such  enjoyment 
was  worth  a  whole  existence  at  the  court  of  France.^^ 


"  Chastellain,  p.  272.  kind  by  the  garrulity  of  the  Burguii- 

"  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  147.  dian  chroniclers.    Old  ser^•ants  of  an 

**  Chastellain,  p.  314.  —  One  is  illustrious  house,  they  are  listened  to 

tempted  into  minute  details  of  this  with  patience  and  sympathy  while 


CHAP.  IT.] 


AFFAIR  OF  RUBEMPRE. 


215 


But  this  amiable  state  of  feeling  between  the  king 
and  his  great  vassal  was  destined  to  be  of  short 
continuance.  A  coiip-de4Matre  vfus  at  hand — a  trans- 
formation as  sudden  and  surprising  as  the  thunder- 
storms and  pitfalls  set  in  operation  by  the  hidden 
enginery  in  the  gallery  at  Hesdin. 

In  September,  1464,  there  arrived,  one  day,  at  the 
port  of  Gorcum,  in  Holland,  a  small  bark,  of  peculiar 
swiftness,  having  a  crew  of  fifty  men.  The  com- 
mander alone  went  on  shore,  and,  entering  a  tavern, 
fell  into  a  conversation  with  the  hostess  and  other 
persons,  in  the  course  of  which  he  made  many  inqui- 
ries about  the  habits  of  the  count  of  Charolais,  how 
often  he  was  accustomed  to  make  excursions  on  the 
water,  at  what  hours  and  with  what  escort  he  went 
abroad,  and  in  what  directions.  Having  discussed 
these  subjects  in  a  tone  of  assumed  carelessness,  the 
merchant  —  for  such  he  professed  himself  to  be  — 
quitted  the  hostelry,  and  rambled  towards  the  out- 
skirts of  the  town.  When  he  reached  the  castle, 
which  was  now  inliabited  by  the  count  and  his  family, 
he  examined  it  attentively,  and  at  length  climbed 
upon  the  wall  and  directed  his  glances  towards  the 
sea.  While  making  this  survey  he  became  aware 
that  he  was  himself  closely  watched  by  a  number 
of  persons  who  had  gathered  near  the  spot.  As 
he  prepared  to  return  the  throng  increased ;  and. 
although  no  violence  was  offered  to   him,  he   be- 


I 


PI 


they  dilate  upon  its  former  grandeur  tale  which  he  has  learned  by  rote 
and  faded  glories.  But  we  soon  wea-  and  in  which  his  own  feelings  are 
ry  of  the  modem  cicerone,  telling  a    little  interested. 


M  I 


216 


AFFAIR  OF  RUBEMPRt. 


[book  I, 


came  alarmed,  and  took  sanctuary  in  a  neighboring 
church.^ 

It  was  not  merely  his  inquisitiveness,  not  unnat- 
ural in  a  stranger,  which  had  excited  suspicion.  He 
had  been  recognized  as  the  Bastard'  of  Rubempre  — 
an  illegitimate  member  of  a  noble  family  in  Flanders, 
who  had  belonged  formerly  to  the  household  of 
Charles,  but  had  since  taken  service  under  the  count 
of  Nevers.  He  was,  in  fact,  a  well  known  adventurer 
—  one  of  those  landless  cavaUers  who  sought  their 
fortune  under  any  standard,  and  were  ready  to  en- 
gage in  any  enterprise.^ 

Information  of  his  proceedings  was  immediately 
conveyed  to  Charles.  The  vessel  was  seized ;  but 
the  mariners,  who  after  the  departure  of  their  com- 
mander had  dispersed  along  the  shore,  succeeded  in 
making  their  escape.  Rubempr^,  on  being  questioned, 
gave  contradictory  replies.  No  confession  of  a  hostile 
purpose  was  extorted  from  him ;  but  public  conjec- 
ture easily  supplied  the  lack  of  certain  information.^^ 
An  attempt  had  been  intended  to  kidnap  the  count 
of  Charolais.  The  leader  of  this  enterprise  was  the 
Bastard  of  Rubempr^,  his  employer  the  count  of 
Nevers.     Therefore  the  author  of  the  plot  could  be 


!     '    ',i'.i. 


'*  Chastellain,  p.  335. — Duclercq, 
torn.  iv.  p.  66.  —  Lenglet,  torn.  ii. 
p.  421. — Extract  from  a  manuscript 
narrative  in  Le  Glay,  Catalogue  De- 
scriptif  des  MSS.  de  la  Bibliotheque 
de  Lille. 

'•  "  Ledict  bastard  estoit  homme- 
de-faict,  courageux  et  entreprenant." 
Lamarche,  torn.  ii.  p.  232. 


'*  Duclercq,  however,  asserts  that 
Kubempr^  made  a  full  confession. 
According  to  the  narrative  in  Le 
Glay,  papers  were  found  in  his  pos- 
session bearing  the  signature  of  the 
king,  and  promising  a  reward  for 
the  capture  of  the  count  of  Charo- 
lais. 


CHAP.  IV.] 


POPULAR  ALAEM. 


217 


no  other  than  the  king  —  the  patron  of  Nevers,  the 
avowed  enemy  of  Charles.  In  this  definite  shape 
the  rumor  flew  through  the  country,  exciting  the 
loyal  indignation  of  the  people,  and  serving  as  a  text 
for  the  highly  seasoned  discourses  of  the  itinerant 
friars,  who  in  the  fifteenth  century  exercised  those 
functions  of  censorship  and  criticism  on  the  topics 
of  the  day  which  are  now  exercised  with  equal  zeal 
and  equal  infallibility  by  the  public  journalists. 

Instead  of  subsiding,  the  popular  excitement  speed- 
ily assumed  a  new  form  —  that  of  alarm  for  the  safety 
of  a  person  still  more  important,  still  more  dear,  than 
he  who  was  one  day  to  become  the  ruler  of  the  Neth- 
erlands. The  duke  was  then  at  Hesdin  —  having 
remained  there  longer  than  usual  at  the  request  of 
Louis,  Avho  proposed  to  honor  him  before  his  depar- 
ture with  another  visit.  The  king  in  Picardy,  busily 
engaged  with  Nevers  —  in  what?  —  scheming,  plot- 
ting, raising  troops,  no  doubt,  waiting  for  intelligence 
that  the  count  of  Charolais  was  in  his  power ;  — 
Philip  close  upon  the  frontier,  at  a  strong  but  ex- 
posed town,  unprotected  by  his  faithful  lieges,  unsus- 
picious of  danger,  ready  to  welcome  the  wily  guest 
for  whom  he  staid  and  any  escort  —  any  armed  force 
rather  —  which  he  might  see  fit  to  bring  with  him  :^^ 
—  here  was  a  conjunction  of  suspicious  circumstances 
that  might  well  set  the  most  sluggish  imagination 
at  work.  While  the  members  of  Philip's  household 
were  discussing  the  subject  and  communicating  their 

"  "  Et  y  dcvoit  mener  avecques  lui,  ce  disoit-on,  sa  grande  garde." 
Chastellain,  p.  342. 
VOL.  I.  28 


Vi 


218 


AFFAIR  OF  RUBEMPRE. 


[book  I. 


Iff  1  i  I 


fears  to  one  another,  a  message  came  to  him,  on  a 
Saturday,  from  the  king,  who  had  already  postponed 
his  visit  much  beyond  the  appointed  time,  but  who 
now  engaged  to  arrive  at  Hesdin  on  the  following 
Monday,  and  begged  his  fair  uncle  not  to  take  his 
departure  till  then.  The  messenger  remained  at 
the  castl?  all  night.  Philip  said  nothing  of  his  inten- 
tions to  any  of  his  nobles ;  but,  after  he  had  retired 
to  rest,  he  desired  his  valet  to  give  the  necessary 
orders  for  his  departure  on  the  morrow.  In  the 
morning  Antony  de  Croy  and  his  nephew,  the  lord 
of  Quievrain,  were  astonished  at  finding  the  court- 
yard filled  with  horses,  and  all  the  preparations  com- 
pleted for  the  removal  of  the  court.  They  silently 
joined  the  train,  which  was  already  in  motion.  As 
it  passed  through  the  gates  of  the  town,  the  magis- 
trates presented  themselves,  and  requested  Philip's 
instructions  as  to  putting  the  place  in  a  state  of 
defence  and  forbidding  the  entrance  of  strangers. 
"  We  are  not  at  war,"  replied  the  duke.  "  Guard 
the  town  as  usual;  and  if  the  king  should  arrive, 
receive  him  with  all  proper  respect.'"'® 

These  tidings  were  a  thunder-clap  to  Louis.  Had 
he  ever  conceived  the  designs  imputed  to  him  ?  Had 
he  imagined  so  monstrous  an  act  of  treachery  as 
the  seizure  of  the  duke  of  Burgundy  and  his  only 
legitimate  son,  to  be  followed  up  by  the  establish- 
ment, under  some  thin  disguise  of  a  protectorate,  of 
his  own  authority  over  a  people  lendered  helpless 
by  panic  and  dismay  ?    The  supposition  may  appear 


"  Chastellain,  p.  344. 


CHAP.  IV.]  GROUNDS  FOR  SUSPECTING  LOUIS. 


219 


incredible,  but  it  was  not  so  regarded  at  the  time ; 
and  the  opinions  of  contemporaries  are  formed  in 
the  presence  of  a  combination  of  circumstances  which 
lose  much  of  their  importance  when  merely  reviewed 
in  detail.  It  is  at  least  plain  that  the  real  objects 
of  the  king's  insidious  proceedings  had  been  to  re- 
duce the  Burgundian  sovereign  to  a  otate  of  tutelage, 
to  obtain  complete  control  over  his  dominions,  and 
to  deprive  the  heir  to  those  dominions  of  his  present, 
if  not  of  his  prospective,  rights.*'  An  attempt  to 
effect  the  same  purpose  by  stealthy  violence  was  re- 
pugnant neither  to  his  own  character  nor  to  that 
of  the  age.  Examples  and  precedents,  more  or  less 
pertinent,  were  still  fresh  in  the  popular  recollection. 
The  assassination  of  the  last  Burgundian  sovereign, 
in  the  presence,  and  with  the  supposed  connivance, 
of  the  dauphin,  furnished,  if  not  a  parallel  case,  some 
points  of  analogy  of  especial  interest  to  those  who 
took  the  most  active  share  in  the  discussion.  But 
another  transaction,  of  very  recent  date,  was  still 
more  to  the  purpose,  since  it  was  one  in  which 
Louis  himself  had  been  the  principal  actor,  and  in 
which  he  had  played  precisely  the  part  he  had  lately 
volunteered  to  perform  in  the  domestic  diama  enact- 
ing at  the  Burgundian  court. 

His  father-in-law,  the  duke  of  Savoy,  was  a  person 
of  feeble  intellect,  steeped  in  the  grorsest  sensuality, 


*"  According  to  Chastellain,  he 
iiad  personally  proposed  to  Philip, 
at  Kesdin,  to  relieve  him  of  the  cares 
of  government ;  and  the  language, 
akeady  quoted,  of  his  mstructions 


to  the  Sire  Chevalier,  as  well  as  his 
whole  course  of  conduct,  leaves  no 
doubt  of  Ids  hostile  iuteutious  with 
regard  to  Charles. 


ii  i 


'!»' '  i 


tri 


mt^ 


J:^ 


t:  :1 


.jM 


h      > 


i| 


220 


AFFAIR  OF  RUEEMPRfe. 


[book  I. 


and  in  affairs  of  government  a  puppet  in  the  hands 
of  his  more  ambitious  and  more  ruu-sculine  wife.  She, 
a  foreigner  by  birth,  had  disgusted  the  nobihty  by 
placing  her  own  cc^ntrymen  in  the  highest  and  most 
lucrative  posts.  A  powerful  party  had  been  formed 
against  her,  headed  by  one  of  her  sons,  the  count  of 
Bresse.  She  had  been  compelled  to  flee  the  country, 
and,  with  her  imbecile  husband,  had  taken  refuge  at 
the  court  of  Louis,  and  invoked  his  assistance  against 
their  rebellious  son.  To  an  appeal  of  this  nature 
Louis  was  never  deaf  It  touched  the  most  sensitive 
cord  in  his  sympathizing  bosom.  By  the  proffer  of 
his  mediation,  and  on  the  guaranty  of  a  safe-conduct, 
he  had  induced  the  count  of  Bresse  to  cross  the  fron- 
tier for  the  purpose  of  pleading  his  cause  in  person 
at  the  French  court.  No  sooner  had  the  young 
prince  entered  the  French  territory  tlian  he  found 
himself  a  prisoner.  He  had  been  hurried  off  to  the 
fortress  of  Loches,  near  Tours,  —  a  convenient  and 
secure,  but  damp  and  sombre,  abode,  —  where  he 
was  still  rigidly  immured.  The  decision  of  the  af- 
fair had  been  postponed.  The  duke,  and  his  eldest 
son,  who  resembled  him  in  character,  were  detained 
in  France,  where  the  former  received  a  pension  and 
the  latter  a  wife.  Louis  selected  as  a  suitable  help- 
mate for  the  heir  of  Savoy  his  own  sister,  the  Princess 
Yolande,  whose  penetration  and  natural  talent  for 
affairs  had  won  for  her  the  largest  share  of  his  fra- 
ternal regard.  When  the  old  sovereign,  whose  inca- 
pacity was  notorious,  should  disappear  from  the  stage, 
his  successor,  equally  incapable,  but  provided  with  a 


CHA.P.  IV.] 


PROTESTATIONS  OF  LOUIS. 


221 


competent  guardian,  might  be  instated  in  his  rights. 
Meanwhile  the  king  himself,  in  virtue  of  his  position 
as  arbiter,  and  by  means  of  agents  as  trusty  and  as 
serviceable  as  the  Croys,  administered  the  govern- 
ment of  Savoy. 

It  was  impossible  to  feel  any  remorse  for  so  suc- 
cessful a  piece  of  statecraft ;  but  what  could  be  more 
annoying  to  the  king  than  to  know  that  this  occur- 
rence was  universally  accepted  by  an  indiscriminating 
public  as  conclusive  proof  of  his  having  planned  a 
still  bolder  scheme,  from  which,  if  it  succeeded,  he 
might  hope  to  derive  far  more  important  benefits. 
It  so  happened  that  the  count  of  Bresse  was  the  god- 
son and  namesake  of  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  who 
had  vainly  solicited  his  restoration  to  liberty.  The 
incidents  had  made  a  deep  impression  upon  Philip's 
mind ;  and  now  he  had  plainly  shown,  by  his  prema- 
ture departure  from  Hesdin,  how  strongly  his  mistrust 
had  been  excited  in  regard  to  the  king's  good  faith. 
Louis  had  at  first  affected  to  treat  the  calumnious 
rumor  with  disdain.  "  He  knew  nothing  of  the  Bas- 
tard of  Rubempre  —  had  never  before  heard  of  his 
existence."*^  For  himself,  he  had  never  done,  spo- 
ken, or  even  thought  any  thing  prejudicial  to  the 
house  of  Burgundy.  His  obligations  to  that  house 
were  engravcu  on  his  heart  "as  on  marble." "^^     He 

*'  Chastellain,  p.  339.  emprimd  et  empraint  en  son  cueur 

*'  "  Car  le  Roy  congnoissoit  bien  comme  en  marbre,  et  ne  I'oublirait 

Ic8  grans  biens  et  plaisirs  que  mon-  jamais."  Discours  du  chancelier  aux 

seigneur  de  Bourgogne  lui  avoit  fait  echevins  d' Amiens,  Dupont.Mem.  de 

quant  il  estoit  dolphin,  et  avoit  ce  Commiiic8,(FreuveB,)  tom.  iii.  p.  209. 


■i  '■ 


■1 


'i 


I 


'>> 


\:\    I. 


m 


222 


AFFAIR  OF  IlUBEMBRt. 


[llOOK 


was  most  anxious,  however,  for  the  suppression  of 
the  scandal,  and  commanded  that  all  persons  who 
discussed  the  subject  in  taverns  or  elsewhere  should 
be  arrested  and  punished.  He  also  caused  a  message 
to  be  sent  by  the  admiral  of  France  to  Antony  de 
Croy,  begging  him  to  exert  his  iniluence  to  disabuse 
Philip's  mind,  and  to  have  Rubempre  quietly  set  at 
liberty  and  suffered  to  leave  the  Netherlands. 

But  the  Croys  had  long  been  in  a  position  which 
seemed  to  render  it  inevitable  that  their  influence  at 
the  Burgundian  court  should  decline  with  that  of 
the  king  himself.  They  had  so  openly  committed 
themselves  to  the  support  of  the  royal  interests,  that 
even  Philip,  when  he  once  began  to  regard  Louis  as 
an  enemy,  could  not  but  look  coldly  on  tliem.  In 
the  general  opinion  they  were  as  deeply  implicated 
in  this  affair  as  the  king.  Rubempr^  was  their  rela- 
tive ;  their  intimacy  with  Nevers  was  as  notorious  as 
their  hostility  to  Charles.  They  were  at  this  moment 
plunged  in  the  deepest  anxiety  on  their  own  account, 
and  disposed  to  curse  the  hour  when  they  had  linked 
their  fortunes  with  those  of  a  restless  schemer,  the 
extent  and  desperate  nature  of  whose  speculations 
were  known  only  to  himself  "  My  friend,"  said  An- 
tony to  the  admiral's  messenger,  "go  back  to  your 
master,  and  tell  hun  that  those  who  have  brewed 
tnis  mixture  may  drink  of  it.  It  shall  be  no  affair 
of  mine."" 

Thus  deprived  of  the  cooperation  on  which  he  had 
relied  for  enabling  him  to  escape  from  his  present 


*»  Chastellain,  p.  338. 


CUAP.  IT.] 


SPECIAL  EMBASSY. 


223 


difficulty  Ly  the  underhand  management  which  he 
would  have  preferred,  Louis  found  it  necessary  to 
assume  the  lofty  tone  more  becoming  in  a  great 
monarch.  He  expressed  his  haughty  indignation  at 
the  presumption  of  the  count  of  Charolais,  who  had 
arrested  and  brought  to  trial  on  so  frivolous  a  charge 
the  servant  and  officer  of  his  sovereign.  For  he 
now  admitted  that  Rubempre  had  been  despatched 
upon  his  business  —  his  orders  being  to  intercept  the 
chancellor  of  Brittany,  sent  on  a  treasonable  mission 
to  England,  whence  he  was  instructed  to  cross  over 
to  Holland,  and  communicate  the  result  to  the  count 
of  Charolais. 

A  special  embassy,  consisting  of  the  Chancellor 
Morvilliers,  the  archbishop  of  Narbonne,  and  the 
count  of  Eu,  the  head  of  the  house  of  Artois, arrived 
at  Lille,  about  the  beginning  of  November,  to  mak'3 
these  representations  to  the  duke  of  Burgundy.  Li 
the  solemn  audience  to  which  they  were  admitted,  in 
the  presence  of  the  count  of  Charolais  and  of  the 
whole  court,  the  ambassadors  opened  the  proceed- 
ings with  a  long  and  artful  haran.;ue  setting  forth 
the  treasonable  designs  of  the  duke  of  Brittany,  and 
leaving  the  same  imputations  to  rest  by  a  natural 
construction  upon  Charles,  the  duke's  friend  and  firm 
ally.  What,  they  asked,  was  the  object  of  this  alli- 
ance, if  it  were  not  directed  against  the  king  ?  They 
sneered  at  the  count's  "suspicious  temper,"  which  had 
allowed  him  to  give  credence  to  the  absurd  sugges- 
tion of  a  design  against  his  person.  They  were  at 
a  loss,  they  said,  to  understand  the  motives  of  his 


I 


1  )   I 


i    I 


224 


AFFAIR  OF  RUBEMPRfi. 


[book  I. 


avowed  enmity  to  their  master,  iinleaa  it  was  to 
be  attributed  to  chagrin  at  the  withdrawal  of  his 
pension. 

It  was  impossible  that  the  fiery  spirit  against 
whom  these  insinuations  were  directed  should  hear 
them  patiently  or  in  silence.  Starting  to  his  feet, 
Charles  broke  in  upon  the  orator  with  fierce  excla- 
mations. "  My  lord  of  Charolais,"  was  the  cool  reply, 
"we  have  no  commission  to  discuss  these  matters  with 
you ;  we  are  here  to  treat  with  your  father  on  behalf 
of  our  dread  lord  the  king."  Flinging  himself  pas- 
sionately at  Philip's  feet,  Charles  besought  his  permis- 
sion to  refute  the  calumnies  which  had  been  heaped 
upon  him.  The  duke  commanded  him  to  have 
patience,  telling  him  that  he  should  be  allowed  to 
answer  the  envoys  at  length  upon  the  following  day. 
The  chancellor,  who  acted  as  the  spolfesman  of  the 
embassy,  then  proceeded  with  his  address.  He  ex- 
pressed his  regret  that  Philip  should  have  been  so 
moved  by  idle  and  malicious  reports  as  to  forfeit  the 
promise  which  he  had  made  to  the  king  to  wait  for 
him  at  Hesdin.  He  conclvided  by  making  three  de- 
mands :  that  Rubempre  should  be  immediately  set 
at  liberty ;  that  Olivier  de  Lamarche,  a  servant  of 
the  count  of  Charolais,  accused  of  having  first  set  the 
scandalous  rumor  afloat,  should  be  sent  into  France, 
to  receive  such  punishment  as  was  meet  for  tradu- 
cing the  honor  of  the  king ;  and  that  the  friars  who 
had  declaimed  upon  so  delicate  a  topic  in  the  pulpits 
of  Bruges  —  a  city  frequented  by  strangers  of  every 
nation,  where  nothing  transpired  that  was  not  speedily 


CHAP.  IV.] 


SPECIAL  EMBASSY. 


225 


coiiiiiiunicatcd  to  all  parts  of  Christendom  —  should 
likewise  be  delivered  up. 

When  the  chancellor  had  finiHhed,  the  count  of  Eu, 
a  person  of  blunt  demeanor  but  unimpeachable  integ- 
rity, and  one  of  the  last  survivors  of  that  splendid 
chivalry  which  had  suflered  so  terribly  from  the 
English  longbows  at  iSzincourt,  added  some  remarks 
characteristic  of  the  soldier  rather  than  of  the  (liplo- 
matist.  "  Monseigneur,"  he  said,  addressing  the  duke 
of  Burgundy,  "you  are  well  known  to  be  a  wise 
prince.  You  have  heard  these  demands,  and  need 
no  counsel  from  others  in  what  manner  you  ought 
to  reply.  Therefore  it  were  well  to  give  us  our 
answer  at  once."  "  Ha,  fair  brother  ! "  exclaimed 
Philip,  "  are  you  but  just  come,  and  in  such  haste  to 
depart?  To  ask  and  to  obtain  are  two  things  not 
often  concluded  in  an  hour.  Yet  I  have  good  hopes 
that  I  shall  be  able  to  make  such  a  response  as  shall 
well  content  the  king."  "  Monseigneur,"  replied  the 
count  sharply,  "you  will  answer  according  to  your 
own  pleasure ;  but,  if  I  might  advise  you,  you  will 
send  back  the  Bastard  of  Rubempre,  and  not  incur 
the  peril  that  must  otherwise  ensue."  "  Fair  brother," 
said  the  duke,  rising  from  his  seat,  as  a  signal  that 
the  audience  was  to  terminate,  "  I  have  often  before 
heard  high  and  threatening  talk,  and  do  not  remember 
that  it  moved  me  much.  To-morrow  this  matter  shall 
be  settled.     In  the  meantmie  I  bid  you  welcome."** 

**  Chastellain,  pp.  347-349. — l)u-     Verbnl  des  Atnlmssadeiirs,  Lenglet, 
clercq,  torn.  iv.  pp.  71-73.  —  Com-     toni.  ii.  p.  417,  et  seq. 
mines,   torn.  i.  pp.  7-9.  —  Tiocfes 

VOL.  I.  29 


t 


226 


^VPF^UK  OF  KUUEMIiR^. 


{book  1. 


^^^1 


The  night  was  .npent  hy  CliiirlcH,  who  conHulored 
himself  as  [)ut  ujx)!!  his  trial  at  the  suit  of  the  king, 
in  tho  prei)aration  of  his  defence.  lie  felt  the  im- 
portance, at  this  critical  moment,  of  avoiding  that 
style  of  expression  into  which  he  would  ha^  e  hcon 
led  hy  his  natural  impetuosity  if  unrestrained,  and 
which  could  do  him  no  good  service  with  the  duke. 
He  therefore  connnitted  his  speech  to  writing,  caie- 
fuUy  weighing  the  language,  and  modifying  such 
phrases  as  were  too  strongly  seasoned  Avitli  invective. 
In  the  morning  he  passed  from  his  lodgings  to  the 
palace,  dressed  in  his  richest  attire,  and  surrounded 
by  a  troop  of  nobles,  who  welcomed  this  opportu- 
nity of  ranging  themselves  oiKMily  as  his  partisans. 
Philip,  however,  under  pretext  of  other  business, 
adjourned  the  audience  to  the  following  Friday.  In 
the  interval  the  whole  town  was  in  a  state  of  excite- 
ment—  the  insulting  language  of  the  envoys  being 
couHuented  upon  in  a  spirit  of  loyal  indignation  by 
the  inha)>itants  of  every  class. 

On  the  appointed  day  the  duke  took  his  place  in 
the  hall  of  audience  on  a  raised  seat,  having  around 
him  the  kniglits  of  the  Golden  Fleece  and  the  great 
officers  of  his  household.  The  apartment  was  thronged 
by  persons  of  noble  condition.  In  such  an  assemljly 
Philip  was  well  qualified  to  preside,  distinguished  as 
he  was  by  the  natural  dignity  of  his  sentiments,  by 
his  commanding  appearance,  and  by  the  ease  with 
which  long  habit  invested  his  assumptions  of  autlior- 
ity.  After  the  usual  formalities  the  count  of  Charo- 
lais,  placing  his  knee  on  a  velvet  stool  in  front  of 


ru\P.  IV.] 


SPECIAL  EMBASSY. 


227 


the  dais,  entered  upon  the  delivery  of  an  address 
olianicteriyx'd  by  his  wonted  earnestness,  but  n^so,  in 
tiio  report  of  Chastellain  at  least,  by  something  of 
the  quaintness  and  prolixity  of  that  venerable  chron- 
icler himself  Substantially,  however,  this  version 
ii;,M'oea  with  other  and  more  concise  reports,  and, 
iunong  them,  with  that  of  Commines,  then  a  youth 
of  nineteen,  who,  three  days  before  the  arrival  of 
the  French  embassy,  had  been  received  as  a  page 
in  the  household  of  the  heir  of  Burgundy,  and  who 
commences  with  an  accoiuit  of  these  events  what 
is  perhiips  the  most  remarkable  narrative  given  of 
contemporaneous  nOiiirs  by  any  modern  writer.     . 

The  topic  most  enlarged  upon  by  Charles  was  the 
complaint  which  had  been  made  of  his  alliance  with 
the  duke  of  Brittany.  It  *vas  true,  he  said,  that,  in 
accordance  with  the  customs  of  chivalry,  they  had 
formed  a  bond  of  friendship  with  each  other,  and 
called  themselves  brothers  in  anns.  But  he  denied 
that  there  was  any  thing  in  this  connection  preju- 
dicial to  the  authority  of  Lhe  crown.  "Methinks," 
lie  remarked,  "  it  should  please  the  king  right  well 
to  sec  the  princes  of  his  blood  and  the  supporters 
of  his  throne  bound  together  in  amity  and  concord. 
Ilis  predecessors  had  good  cause  to  lament  the  dis- 
sensions and  feuds  that  existed  among  their  vassals. 
He  alone  has  been  so  fortunate  as  to  see  them  all 
united  and  at  peace ;  and  accursed  be  the  attempt, 
by  whomsoever  made,  to  sow  division  and  hostility 
among  them!" 

He  treated  with  disdain  the  intimation  that  his 


II' 


=  -t 


! 


rir- 


228 


ATFAIR  OF  RUBEMPRE. 


[book  I. 


Bentiments  towards  the  king  had  been  affected  by 
the  loss  of  his  pension.  "  I  never  solicited  him,"  he 
said,  "  either  for  pensions  or  honors.  What  he  gave 
was  given  of  his  own  accord ;  it  was  his  to  grant, 
and  his  to  withhold.  While  I  enjoy  your  favor,  my 
redoubted  lord  and  father,  I  have  no  need  to  seek 
the  benefactions  of  any  other  prince." 

He  concluded  his  oration  by  enumerating  the 
vexatious  acts  which  Louis,  since  his  accession,  had 
committed  against  the  house  of  Burgundy,  dwelling 
with  particular  miphasis  on  the  countenance  he  had 
given  to  its  hereditary  enemies,  the  people  of  Liege, 
"It  was  easy  to  see,"  remarks  Comraines,  "that  he 
would  have  spoken  far  more  sharply  had  he  not 
been  restrained  by  his  father's  presence." 

The  duke  could  not  but  listen  with  pleasure  to  a 
defence  so  forcible  and  yet  so  temperate.  His  own 
reply  to  the  ambassadors  was  in  a  lighter  tone,  which, 
if  it  gave  no  additional  weight  to  his  reasonings,  de- 
tracted nothing  from  the  seriousness  of  his  intentions. 
They  had  charged  his  son  with  being  of  a  suspicious 
nature.  "If  this  be  so,"  he  said,  "he  does  not  derive 
it  from  me ;  for  I  have  never  been  troubled  with 
fears  of  any  prince  or  of  any  living  man.  It  must 
be,"  he  added,  with  {*  smile,  "  that  he  has  inherited 
this  quality  from  his  mother,  who,  as  I  have  often 
found  occasion  to  lament,  is  the  most  suspicious  per- 
son in  the  world."  He  refused,  as  was  doubtless 
anticipated,  to  set  the  Bastard  of  Rul)ompre  at  lib- 
erty. The  arrest  had  been  made  in  Holland,  which 
was  not  a  fief  of  France,  and  for  his  government 


*-  — % 


cBAPi  rv.] 


SPECIAL  EMBASSY. 


229 


of  which  he  did  not  hold  himself  accountable  to  the 
king.  As  to  delivering  up  the  friars  whose  discourses 
had  given  notoriety  to  the  affair,  Philip  observed  that, 
for  his  part^  he  was  only  a  temporal  prince,  and  did 
not  pretend  to  exercise  authority  in  matters  of  eccle- 
siastical discipline.  It  was  certain  that  there  were 
many  preachers  who  had  very  little  understanding, 
and  who  were  in  the  habit  of  speaking  indiscreetly ; 
and  it  was,  moreover,  notorious  that  these  friars 
wandered  from  place  to  place,  and,  when  they  were 
gone,  no  one  knew  what  had  become  of  them  or 
remembered  what  they  had  preached.  He  gave  the 
same  denial  to  the  demand  for  the  surrender  of 
Olivier  de  Lamarche,  in  whose  case,  if  he  should  be 
found  to  have  done  any  thing  amiss,  justice  should 
be  administered  without  partiality.  When  he  came 
to  touch  upon  the  accusation  made  against  himself, — 
that  he  had  broken  his  plighted  word  to  the  king, — 
Philip's  manner  changed.  He  hesitated  for  a  mo- 
ment; then,  looking  round  upon  the  assembly  and 
raising  his  voice,  "  Let  every  one  be  assured,"  he  said, 
"that  I  never  failed  of  my  promise  to  living  man 
when  it  was  possible  for  me  to  perform  it;"  and, 
resuming  his  former  tone,  he  added,  "  I  never  broke 
troth  in  my  life,  unless  it  were  with  a  lady."  He  gave 
his  reasons  —  "certain  great  affairs  which  demanded 
his  attention"  —  for  having  quitted  Hesdin  so  ab- 
ruptly, and  ended  by  begging  the  envoys  to  make 
his  excuses  on  this  point  to  his  sovereign.*^ 

"  Chastellain,  p.  351,  et  seq. —    dercq,  torn.  iv.  pp.  77-80. — Basin, 
Commines,  torn.  i.  pp.  10, 11.  — Du-    torn.  ii.  pp.  92,  93. 


..-i 


'  i 


i 


^ 


mm 


230 


CONFEDERACY  OF  THE  NOBLES. 


(BOOK  I. 


After  wine  and  spices  had  been  served  the  ambas- 
sadors took  leave  of  Philip  and  the  count.  Charles, 
who  stood  at  some  distance  from  his  father,  spoke 
privately  to  the  archbishop  of  Narbonne.  "Com- 
mend me,"  he  said,  "  to  the  king's  grace ;  he  has 
caused  his  chancellor  here  to  berate  me  soundly; 
but  tell  him  before  a  year  is  past  he  will  have  seen 
reasons  for  repenting  of  it."*®  The  message  was  not 
forgotten  by  the  person  intrusted  with  it,  or  —  as 
we  shall  hereafter  see  —  by  the  person  to  whom  it 
was  sent. 

It  was,  indeed,  no  idle  menace.  Although  the, 
alliance  between  the  duke  of  Brittany  and  the  count 
of  Charolais  did  not  include  the  English  monarch,  it 
was  not  long  confined  to  the  original  parties.  Its 
ramifications  extended  throughout  France.  A  con- 
spiracy was  formed  embracing  most  of  the  princes 
and  nobles  of  the  realm,  and  known  to  more  than 
five  hundred  persons  including  many  ladies ;  yet  no 
whisper  of  it,  we  are  told,  reached  the  ear  of  the 
jealous  king.  In  his  own  capital,  in  the  great  cathe- 
dral of  Notre  Dame,  the  agents  of  the  confederates 
met,  towards  the  close  of  the  year  1464,  and,  recog- 
nizing one  another  by  a  silken  aigidlleite  which  each 
wore  at  his  girdle,  conferred  together  and  arranged 
a  plan  of  operations.*'' 

The  head-quarters  of  these  intrigues  were  in  Brit- 

«8  "  Recommandez  moy  tres  hum-  avant  qu'fl  soit  ung  an  il  s'en  repen- 

blement  &  la  bonne  grace  du  Roy,  et  tira."    Comminea,  torn.  i.  p.  12. 

luy  dictes  qu'il  m'a  bien  faict  laver  *'  Lamarche,  torn.  ii.    pp.   234, 

icy  par  son  chancellier,  mais  que  235. 


CHAP.  IV.]  FLIGHT  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  BERRI. 


231 


ere  in  Brit- 


tany. The  duke  himself  was  a  person  of  slender 
abilities,  and  in  no  respect  qualified  to  be  the  leader 
of  a  great  enterprise ;  but  his  court  was  the  abode 
of  many  accomplished  politicians,  some  of  them  old 
servants  of  Charles  the  Seventh,  whom  Louis,  in  the 
heedless  vengeance  which  marked  the  commencement 
of  his  reign,  had  dismissed  from  their  employments. 
Early  in  the  spring  of  1465  an  envoy  from  Brittany, 
Odet  d'Aydie,  Sire  de  Lescun,  arrived  at  the  court  of 
France  for  the  ostensible  purpose  of  arranging  ami- 
cably some  questions  in  dispute  between  his  master 
,and  the  king.  He  found  the  latter  at  Poitiers,  on 
his  way  to  visit  the  shrine  of  Our  Lady  of  Puy,  in 
Anjou.  Having  received  his  answer,  Odet,  instead 
of  returning  at  once  to  Brittany,  waited  at  a  place 
four  leagues  distant  from  Poitiers  until  the  real  object 
of  his  mission  should  have  been  secured. 

It  was  important  that  a  league  formed  against  the 
government  by  the  princes  of  the  realm,  under  the 
usual  pretext  of  rectifying  abuses  introduced  by  the 
ill-disposed  advisers  of  the  sovereign,  should  have  at 
its  head  the  person  nearest  in  blood  and  interest  to 
the  throne.  It  was  not  likely  that  Louis,  who  had 
himself  yielded  so  readily  to  the  seductions  employed 
on  such  occasions,  should  fail  to  exercise  a  strict  sur- 
veillance over  his  brother,  the  heir  presumptive  to 
the  crown.  The  young  duke  of  Berri  led,  in  fact,  the 
life  of  a  prisoner.  He  was  compelled  to  attend  the 
restless  king  in  his  incessant  journeys,  and  was  hardly 
suflFcred  to  be  absent  from  his  sight.*^     Yet,  on  the 


i! 


»<  ■ 


*"  Basin,  torn.  ii.  p.  100. 


5    In, 


232 


CONFEDERACY  OF  THE  NOBLES. 


[book  1. 


t 


I 


'iH.i;i 


present  occasion,  Louis,  on  resuming  his  pilgrimage, 
left  his  brother  at  Poitiers.  Half  an  hour  after  his 
departure  the  duke  of  Berri,  pretending  a  design  to 
hunt,  passed  the  barriers  of  the  castle  with  a  few 
attendants,  and  hastened  to  the  spot  which  he  had 
secretly  agreed  upon  with  Odet  as  a  place  of  meet- 
ing. Preparations  had  been  made  for  his  flight,  and 
he  was  speedily  beyond  the  reach  of  pursuit.** 

All  that  was  now  thought  wanting  to  insure  the 
success  of  the  movement  was  the  adhesion  of  the 
duke  of  Burgundy.  His  friend  and  kinsman,  the 
duke  of  Bourbon,  one  of  the  principal  confederates,, 
visited  him  at  Lille,  and  endeavored  to  obtain  his 
concurrence.  Letters  were  sent  to  him  from  Brittany, 
signed  by  the  duke  of  Berri,  in  which  he  was  conjured 
to  unite  with  the  other  members  of  the  royal  family 
in  settling  the  affairs  of  the  kingdomr  But  Philip 
still  shrank  from  the  thought  of  disturbing  that  peace 
which  thirty  years  before  he  had  himself  bestowed 
upon  France,  and  of  renewing  in  his  old  age  the  civil 
wars  to  which  an  irresistible  appeal  had  forced  him 
to  become  "  party  in  his  youth.  It  was  liis  highest 
glory  that  to  him  the  realm  was  indebted  for  its 
present  tranquillity.  That  tranquillity  he  had  made 
the  strongest  efforts  and  the  greatest  sacrifices  to 
preserve.  At  the  very  moment  of  his  dismissing 
the  envoys  of  Louis  with  an  unsatisfactory  reply, 
we  find  him,  in  conversation  with  an  English  agent, 
expressing  his  earnest  desire  to  aid  in  negotiating 

*'  Letter  of  the  King  to  the  Duke    iii.  p.  225.  —  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p. 
of  Bourbon,  Duclos,  (Preuves,)  torn.    109.  —  Basin,  torn.  iL  p.  100. 


CHAP,  nr.] 


OVERTHRO  rtT  OF  THE  CROYS. 


233 


such  a  treaty  between  the  two  countries  as  might 
conduce  to  the  interests  of  both.*^  His  son,  in  a 
private  interview  with  him,  poured  forth  in  passion- 
ate strains  his  complaints  against  the  Croys.  The 
duke  heard  him  without  anger,  but  answered  pathet- 
ically, "  Charles,  I  am  old  and  feeble.  I  have  always 
endeavored  to  avoid  dissensions  in  rny  family ;  suifer 
me  still  to  live  in  peace.  Be  content  with  the  place 
which  you  hold  in  my  tiffections.  These  men  are 
strangers  to  me ;  }  ou  are  my  son,  my  legitimate  heir, 
my  flesh  and  my  blood." 

.  An  attempt  was  made  to  mediate  between  the 
hostile  parties.  Some  of  the  courtiers  represented 
to  Antony  de  Croy  the  perilous  situation  in  which 
he  stood,  and  would  fain  have  persuaded  him  to 
accept  an  offer  of  grace  conditional  on  his  resigning 
the  offices  bestowed  upon  him  by  Louis,  and  lend- 
ing all  his  influence  with  Philip  to  the  support  of 
the  confederates.  The  aged  minister  listened  to 
tlieir  arguments  in  a  manner  that  seemed  to  beto- 
ken irresolution.  But  he  had  gone  too  flir  to  recede 
with  safety.  He  felt  that  by  such  a  course  he  should 
place  himself  powerless  in  the  hands  of  his  enemies. 
When  warmly  pressed  he  answered  with  a  blunt 
refusal.  "  I  will  not,"  he  said,  "  exchange  the  service 
of  a  king  of  France  for  that  of  a  count  of  Charolais. 
Pardon  me,  and  adieu!""    He  retired  to  Tournay, 

'"  See  the  Letter  of  Sir  Robert  taire  ou  faire.  .  .  .  Je  ne  veulx  pas 

Nevil,  November  17, 1464,  Dupont,  ccssier  le  service  d'unp  roi  de  France 

(Preuves,)  torn.  iii.  p.  212.  pour  ung  comte  de  Charolais.    Par- 

"  "  Respondit  tout  court  et  comme  donnez  moi  et  adieu."     Chastellain, 

approcie  du  point  oil  il  convenoit  p.  376. 
TOL.  I.                30 


■t         !' 


,  \:-  y    p. 
!:  'll  k 


It  !  ■)    '  f 


234 


CONFEDERACY  OF  THE  NOBLES. 


[book  I. 


then  a  French  town,  though  geographically  a  part  of 
Hainault.  His  nepliew,  the  lord  of  Quievrain,  who  had 
for  some  time  performed  his  duties  as  first  chamber- 
lain, continued  to  represent  him  at  PhDip's  court. 

At  this  critical  moment  the  duke  was  again  at- 
tacked by  paralysis.  His  son  assumed  the  reins  of 
government ;  and  his  first  act  was  to  wrest  from  the 
Croys  the  government  of  Luxembourg  and  other 
provinces.  When  Philip  had  partially  recovered  he 
was  induced  to  confirm  what  had  been  done.  Quie- 
vrain, however,  held  his  ground.  On  the  following 
day  the  confirmation  was  revoked.  The  count  of 
Charolais  was  refused  admittance  to  his  father's  pres- 
ence. But  he  gathered  his  adherents  round  him,  and 
declared  his  resolution  not  to  quit  the  palace.^^  He 
issued  a  manifesto,  calling  ujjon  the  towns  to  support 
him  in  his  just  pretensions  and  in  the'  preservation 
of  his  birthright ;  denouncing  the  Croys  as  traitors, 
and  citing,  as  evidence  of  their  secret  machinations 
for  the  overthrow  of  the  house  of  Burgundy,  their 
long  hostility  to  himself,  their  league  with  Ncvers 
and  with  the  king,  and  their  abuse  of  Philip's  confi- 
dence as  shown  in  their  monopoly  of  his  favors,  in 
various  acts  of  maleadministration,  but  especially  in 
the  false  and  treasonable  representations  by  wliich 


**  "Avons  supplie  et  requis,  en 
toute  humilitu,  a  mondit  seigneur  et 
pere,  que  son  plaisir  feust  nous  don- 
ner  audience  de  parler  h,  lui. .  .  .  Et 
pour  08  que  n'avons  encore  peu  par- 
venir  h  ladite  audience  avoir,  nous 
avons  depuis  fait  assembler  devcrs 
nous  ceulx  de  son  sang,  avec  tous 


les  chevaliers,  escuyers  et  gens  de 
ccnseil  notables  de  son  hostel  et  du 
nostre.  .  .  .  Nostre  intention  est  de 
continuelment  nous  tenir  doresena- 
vant  empres  lui  et  en  son  hostel," 
&c.  Letter  of  the  count  of  Cha- 
rolais, Ma'-ch  12,  1465,  in  Gaohard, 
Doc.  Incd.  torn.  L  pp.  139,JiO. 


CHAP,  rv.] 


OVERTHROW  OF  THE  CROYS. 


235 


y  a  part  of 
in,  who  had 
it  chamber- 
8  court. 
3  again  at- 
le  reins  of 
ist  from  the 
and  other 
icovered  he 
one.    Quie- 
e  following 
e  count  of 
ather's  pres- 
nd  him,  and 
[ilace.^^    He 
s  to  support 
breservation 
as  traitors, 
lachinations 
jmidy,  their 
ith  Ncvers 
lilip's  confi- 
is  favors,  in 
specially  in 
s  by  wliich 

yers  et  gens  de 

son  hostel  et  du 

intention  est  de 

tenir  doresena- 

en  Bon  hostel," 

count  of  Cha- 

165,  in  Gaohard, 

p.  139,JL40. 


they  had  induced  the  sovereign  to  weaken  his  power 
and  imperil  his  dominions  by  giving  up  the  places 
in  Picardy.  The  effect  of  this  appeal  was  to  pro- 
duce a  ferment  throughout  the  Netherlands.  The 
unpopular  ministers  saw  the  necessity  of  retiring 
from  the  unequal  contest.  They  were  permitted  to 
carry  with  them  into  France  a  portion  of  their  per- 
gonal effects;  but  their  immense  landed  possessions 
were  seized  upon  and  confiscated. 

Before  his  departure  Quievrain  went  to  take  leave 
of  the  duke.  The  announcement  that  his  servants 
had  been  discharged  without  his  knowdedge  or  con- 
sent, that  their  lives  had  been  threatened  and  their 
property  seized,  roused  a  spark  of  the  ancient  fire  in 
Philip's  breast.  He  snatched  up  a  weapon,  and,  tot- 
tering from  the  chamber,  vowed  to  take  vengeance 
on  his  son.  But  the  time  had  passed  when  the  gleams 
of  his  wrath  excited  terror  where  they  fell.  The 
ladies  of  the  court  surrounded  him,  soothed  him  with 
persuasive  words,  and  disarmed  his  impotent  fury. 
Charles  did  not  yet  venture  to  appear  before  him ; 
but  a  plan  for  effecting  a  reconciliation  w'as  skilfvdly 
arranged.  "On  the  thirteenth  day  of  April,  being 
Holy  Friday,  the  day  on  which  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
suffered  death  upon  the  cross,  a  very  solemn  preacher 
delivered  a  discourse,  in  the  house  of  the  duke  of 
Burgund}',  in  Brussels,  upon  clemency  and  mercy, 
wliich  was  very  pitiable  to  hear ;  and  on  the  day  fol- 
lowing, being  Easter  Eve,  the  count  of  Charolais, 
attended  by  the  knights  of  the  Golden  Fleece  and 
many  other  great  lords,  came  before  his  father,  and, 


V   si 


t  -^ 


'% 

'i'{ 


!P 


I  il 

I  il 


li 


236 


^  [ 


CONFEDERACY  OF  THE  NOBLES. 


[book  1. 


throwing  himself  upon  his  knees,  said,  'I  beseech 
you,  my  redoubted  lord  and  father,  in  honor  of  the 
passion  of  Our  Saviour,  to  pardon  what  I  have  done 
amiss ;  for  what  I  have  done  was  in  defence  of  my 
own  life,  and  for  the  preservation  of  yourself  and  of 
your  subjects.'"  He  then  proceeded,  "in  discreet 
and  noble  language,"  to  explain  at  length  the  mo- 
tives from  which  he  had  acted  —  his  father  "  holding 
him  all  the  while  by  the  arm,  and  looking  him 
steadfastly  in  the  eyes."  When  he  had  finished 
Philip  raised  him  and  "  kissed  him  upon  the  mouth." 
"  Charles,  my  son,"  he  said,  "  I  pardon  all  the  offences 
you  have  ever  committed  against  me  to  the  present 
hour;  be  my  good  son,  and  I  will  be  your  good 
father."  As  he  spoke  Philip  shed  tears,  and  "  most 
part  of  those  who  were  there  wept  also ; "  while  the 
chroniclers  hastened  to  record,  in  their  euphuistic 
phraseology,  "  how  the  good  duke  had  pardoned  the 
maleadroitness  of  his  son."*" 

The  plans  of  the  confederates  were  now  ripe. 
Active  preparations  were  made  for  war.  The  time 
and  the  place  of  meeting  were  appointed.  The  count 
of  Charolais  proclaimed  himself  lieutenant-general 
of  his  father,  and  called  upon  the  estates  of  Flanders 
and  of  Hainault  to  grant  him  a  subsidy.  But  he  did 
not  wait  for  the  deliberative  action  with  which  those 
bodies  were  accustomed   to  answer  such  demands. 


*'  "  Comment  le  due  de  Bour-  et  seq.,)  and  in  a  letter  of  the  time 

gogne  pardonna  a  son  fils  son  mal  printed  among  the  Doc.  Ined.  sur 

talent."     See  the  description  of  this  I'Hist.  de  France,  Melanges,  torn.  u. 

scene  in  Duclercq,  (tom.  iv.  p.  137,  p.  227. 


CHAP.  IV.] 


OVERTHROW  OF  TIIE  CROYS. 


237 


He  sent  forth  an  invitation  to  all  the  vassals  of  the 
house  of  Burgundy  to  assemble  with  their  retain- 
ers. His  powerful  friend,  the  count  of  Saint-Pol, 
aided  him  in  raising  and  equipping  the  necessary 
force.  His  numerous  allies  displayed  similar  activ- 
ity ;  and  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  France 
the  trumpet  blast  rang  out  which  summoned  the 
chivalry  to  arms. 


letter  of  the  time 
e  Doc.  Ined.  sur 
Melanges,  torn.  ii. 


i  ■ 

€1 


u^ 


CHAPTER    V. 

WAR   OF   THE   PUBLIC   WEAL.  -  BATTLE  OF   MONTLH^EY. 

1465. 

Civil  Wcir  in  France  —  a  violent  collision  between 
the  crown  and  its  great  vassals  —  was  a  matter  not 
of  choice  or  of  chance,  but  of  necessitj?^.  Two  hos- 
tile powers,  two  irreconcilable  principles,  had  long 
aspired  to  prevail ;  and  the  time  had  arrived  when 
a  trial  of  strength  must  be  made  —  when  each  must 
exhibit,  in  open  and  strenuous  conflict  with  the  other, 
the  extent  of  its  means,  the  stability  of  its  position, 
its  internal  force  and  vitality. 

Such  conflicts  may  be  long  postponed ;  and  the 
longer  they  are  postponed  the  better  for  the  nation, 
and  for  the  cause  which  depends  for  its  ultimate 
triumph  on  the  reality  and  justness  of  its  claims.  It 
is  the  part  of  Prudence  to  wrestle  with  Fate  —  to 
mediate  for  mutual  concessions,  to  frame  compro- 
mises, to  readjust  a  drooping  balance,  and  appeal  to 
the  slow  arbitrament  of  Time.  But,  in  point  of  fact, 
the  question  is  always  tried,  if  not  always  solved, 

(238) 


CHAP,  v.] 


CAUSES  OF  TIIE  REVOLT. 


239 


by  readier  and  8wifter  methods.  Those  who  are 
confident  in  their  right  and  in  their  miglit  may  be 
content  to  wait ;  but  they  who  are  weak  in  resources 
or  in  faith  put  their  trust  in  Opportunity,  seek  to 
conquer  by  surprise  or  by  sudden  onslaughts,  and 
are  ever  the  first  to  unsheathe  the  sword  and  make 
Fortune  the  umpire  of  their  quarrel. 

In  which  of  these  two  classes  Louis  the  Eleventh 
should  be  placed  might  not,  perhaps,  be  easy  to  de- 
termine. His  character,  even  after  due  elimination 
of  the  moral  elements,  does  not  readily  yield  a  pure 
residu'wn  to  the  ordinary  tests.  He  was  at  once 
confident  and  apprehensive,  wary  and  rash,  ready  by 
any  aggressions  to  provoke  hostilities,  ready  by  any 
sacrifices  to  avert  or  to  terminate  them.  Yet  these 
seeming  inconsistencies  cannot  be  attributed  to  a  lack 
of  clear  perceptions,  to  instability  of  purpose,  or  to 
incapacity  of  endurance.  It  may  rather  appear  that 
his  quick  and  fertile  intellect,  anticipating  remote  con- 
tingencies, suggesting  diverse  expedients,  and  prompt- 
ing continual  experiments,  will  account  at  once  for 
the  rapidity  of  his  movements  and  the  tortuousness 
of  his  course,  for  his  temerity  and  his  fears,  for  his 
haste  and  his  hesitancy,  for  his  grasping  acquisitive- 
ness and  his  unrepining  submission  when  compelled  to 
make  restitution,  for  the  indiscretions  which  involved 
him  in  war,  and  the  anxieties  which  led  liiin,  when  at 
war,  to  seek  only  for  the  means  of  obtaining  peace.^ 


;l    i 


'  "  Quant  il  avoit  la  guerre,  il  desi-  .  .  .  Sa  complexion  cstoit  telle,  et 
roit  paix  ou  trefve :  quand  il  I'avoit,  ainsi  vivoit."  Commines,  torn.  ii. 
h  grant  peine  la  povoit  il  endurer,  .  p.  273. 


240 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


Ever  ninco  liiH  accession  he  had  been  indefatigable 
in  conciliating  the  good  will  of  foreign  powers,  espe- 
cially of  those  powers  with  which  his  father's  relations 
Jiad  been  unfriendly  or  precarious.  He  had  striven 
hard  for  a  peaceful  and  final  settlement  with  Eng- 
land, and,  notwithstanding  the  late  ominous  change  of 
dynasty  in  that  country,  and  the  counter  intluenees 
at  Avork,  had  at  least  succeeded  in  getting  the  truce 
extended.  Tie  had  hastened  to  close  a  long  existing 
breach  between  the  French  government  and  the 
pope,  by  rescinding  the  Pragmatic  Sanction  esta))- 
lished  by  Charles  the  Seventh  as  a  security  for  his 
own  independence  and  the  liberties  of  the  Gallicim 
Church.  lie  had  stepped  forward,  as  the  friend  of 
both  parties,  to  mediate  between  the  sovereigns  of 
Castile  and  Aragon  —  not,  however,  wkhout  deriving 
some  profit  from  their  embroilment.  He  had,  in  like 
manner,  tendered  his  mediation  in  the  affairs  of 
Savoy,  with  the  advantageous  results  already  noticed. 
He  had  formed  a  strict  and  cordial  alliance  with 
Francis  Sforza,  duke  of  Milan  —  a  congenial  spirit, 
the  most  despotic  and  the  most  politic  of  the  Italian 
princes ;  and  he  was  on  terms  of  almost  equal  amity 
with  the  Venetian  oligarchy,  more  despotic  and  more 
politic  than  any  prince.  But  there  was  one  power 
with  which  Louis  had  concluded  no  treaty,  whose 
friendship  he  had  not  courted,  whose  enmity  he  had 
seemed  to  disregard.  And  this  power  was  France. 
Not  France  as  a  unit,  as  a  nation  or  a  people,  —  for 
in  this  sense  its  existence  was  theoretical  rather  than 
real,  —  but  France  as  it  actually  existed,  divided  into 


CHAP,  v.] 


CAUSES  OF  THE  REVOLT. 


241 


many  bodies,  repre.sented  by  many  heads ;  the  France 
thiit  was  not  French ,  but  Gascon,  Breton,  Burgundian, 
nay  Englisli  and  anti-French  when  occasion  suited. 

How  was  it  possil)le  that  this  France  should  regard 
the  king  otherwise  than  as  a  foe?  What  need  of 
any  king  where  there  were  so  many  princes,  each 
competent  to  govern  his  own  dominions,  each  para- 
mount in  fact,  if  not  in  name,  with  his  own  vassals  ?^ 
Or,  if  there  were  some  mysterious  attributes  of  roy- 
alty not  possible  to  be  dispensed  with,  these  could  all 
be  exercised  by  a  crowned  puppet,  made  to  move 
and  speak  at  the  dictation  of  the  real  sovereigns. 
As  for  the  present  king,  not  content  with  usurping 
the  reality  of  power,  he  made  a  scoff  of  those  emble- 
matical functions  which  shadowed  forth  the  divinitA- 
of  the  regal  character.  Instead  of  surrounding  him- 
self with  the  magnates  of  his  realm,  and  acting  by 
their  counsel  and  through  their  agency,  he  shunned 
their  society,  dispensed  with  all  external  splendor, 
courted  obscurity,  chose  his  companions  and  ministers 
among  the  low-bom,  and  watched  the  proceedings 
of  his  vassals  with  the  prying  eyes  of  a  spy  or  with 
the  mocking  air  of  a  railkur.  Grievous  as  had  been 
his  encroachments,  it  was  by  his  innovations  —  by 
his  deviations  from  established  usage,  and  his  visible 
want  of  reverence  for  the  forms,  the  customs,  the 
distinctions  of  rank,  which  gave  to  the  whole  fabric 

"  Tlie  real    aim    of   the  feudal    that  he  loved  France  so  well  as  to 
princes,  in  this  reign,  to  subvert  the    wish  to  give  it  six  kings  in  place  of 
monarchy,  is  plainly  intimated  in  the    one. 
sarcastic  remark  of  Charles  the  Bold, 
VOL.  I.  81 


i:- 


^  t 


242 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I, 


of  society  its  harmon}'  and  "  order "  —  that  he  had 
brought  this  storm  upon  his  head. 

Accordingly,  in  their  manifestoes,  the  confeder- 
ates, haughtily  repelling  the  charge  that  their  en- 
terprise was  unlawful,  that  they  were  stirring  up  a 
"  rebellion,"  declared  it  to  be  the  bounden  duty  and 
solemn  obligation  of  the  great  feudatories  and  princes 
of  the  blood  to  see  that  the  realm  was  properly  gov- 
erned, and  to  correct  whatever  was  amiss.  They 
called  upon  "  all  virtuous  men "  to  assist  them  in 
this  laudable  undertaking.^  It  was  no  private  cause 
for  which  they  were  prepared  to  "imperil  life  and 
land,"  but  that  of  the  "  Public  Weal."  "  Order  "  Avas 
to  be  reestablished ;  the  unworthy  persons  who  had 
crept  into  office,  poisoning  the  fountain  of  honor  and 
vitiating  the  healthful  action  of  its"  streams,  were 
to  be  removed  and  punished ;  the  taxes  were  to  be 
abolished,*  and  "  the  poor,  oppressed  people  "  set  free 
from  its  intolerable  burdens.''    Moreover,  there  was  a 


« m. 


*  "  Pour  ce  que  h  mectre  et  don- 
ner  ordre  h  I'estat.  police  et  gouverue- 
ment  dudit  royaulme,  les  princes  et 
seigneurs  du  sang,  comme  menibrcs 
principaulx  de  la  couronne  et  par  le 
conseil  dcsquelz  et  non  d'autres  se 
doivent  traictier,  conduire  et  consul- 
ter  les  grands  et  principaulx  affiiires 
du  roy  et  dudit  royaulme,  peuvent 
et  sont  tenuz  eulx  emploicr  et  expo- 
ser  leurs  personnes  et  leurs  biens  :  et 
en  ce  tons  hommes  vertueux  les  peu- 
ent  et  doivent  servir,  aydier  et  con- 
forter,  selon  bonne  coustume  et  rai- 
8on,  sans  reprehencion  quelconque." 
Leitre  du  comte  de  Charolais  aux 
habitants  d' Amiens,  Doc.  Indd.  sur 


rilist.  de  France,  Melanges,  torn.  ii. 
p.  317. 

■'  "  Sachos  h  bci  vouloirctla  sainte 
intencion  que  mondit  seigneur  do 
Hcrry  a  au  bien  du  royaumc  et  it 
abatre  toutes  gabelles,  iiiiposirions, 
mangerjes  et  autres  charges  iiidcups 
du  pouvre  peuple."  Lettre  de  Oiiil- 
laume  Hugonet  aux  ceux  d'Anuens, 
Ibid.,  p.  307. 

'  See  the  manifesto  of  the  duke 
of  Berri,  that  of  the  count  of  Charo- 
lais, and  other  documents  of  the  like 
nature,  in  Lenglet,  tom.  ii.  p.  438,  et 
al.,  and  Doc.  Ined.,  Melanges,  torn. 
ii.  p.  297,  et  seq. 


Melanges,  torn.  li. 


CHAP,  v.] 


CAUSES  OF  THE  REVOLT. 


243 


private  understanding,  or  contemplated  arrangement, 
among  the  leaders  of  the  revolution,  that  a  regency 
should  be  created,  as  a  means  of  keeping  under  re- 
fjtraint  the  eccentric  propensities  of  the  sovereign,  and 
that  the  post  of  constable  of  France,  left  vacant  since 
the  death  of  the  count  of  Richemont,  who  in  the 
earlier  da^^s  of  Charles  the  Seventh  had  long  held  that 
monarch  in  leading  strings,  should  be  suitably  filled." 
Supposing  Louis  to  possess  the  patience  and  meek- 
ness of  his  beatified  ancestor  Saint  Louis,  these  virtues 
must  be  sorely  tried  if  such  a  scheme  went  into  oper- 
ation. Yet  there  seemed  to  be  little  chance  of  his 
eluding  the  net  prepared  for  him.  The  summons  of 
the  princes  was  joyfully  responded  to  by  the  whole 
of  the  lesser  nobility,  a  class  corresponding  in  rank 
to  the  country  gentlemen  of  England.  This  class 
had  a  real  grievance  to  allege  —  greater  than  was 
endured  by  any  other  in  the  kingdom,  the  greatest 
that  human  beings  are  ever  called  upon  to  endure. 
They  were  suffering  from  ennui,  the  consequence  of 
iie  king's  prohibition  of  the  chase.  Their  occupation 
was  gone ;  and  they  had  long  sat  in  enforced  idle- 
ness, looking  with  half-vacant,  half-wistful  gaze  on  the 
road  that  led  to  Paris  —  the  residence  of  the  king 
and  of  the  court,  where,  in  a  natural  state  of  things, 
they  might  revolve  as  satellites  around  the  great 
central  luminary,  whose  beams  were  now  obscured 
or  shed  only  on  clods  incapable  of  reflecting  its 
•light.     In  no  other  capital  in  the  world  were  there 


1 


H     I 


.iff  I] 


'  Interrogatoire  du   SeJgneur  de  Crfevecceur,  Doc.  Incd.,   Melangee, 
torn.  ii.  p.  352. 


244 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  ViEAL. 


[book  I. 


SO  many  honorable  and  lucrative  ol'ices  in  the  gift 
of  the  crown.  For  one  of  these  a  man  might  he 
content  to  exchange  the  isolated  grandeur,  the  soli- 
tary and  now  silent  life  of  the  cMteau.  Should  the 
duties  prove  irksome,  or  demand  acquirements  more 
extensive  than  befitted  a  person  of  high  descent, 
they  could  be  performed  by  deputy,  or  the  place 
might  be  disposed  of  for  a  sum  sufficient  to  yield 
an  annuity  hardly  inferior  in  amount  to  the  salar}-." 
Besides  offices,  there  was,  or  should  be,  an  unlim- 
ited pension  fund  at  the  royal  disposal.  For  what 
purpose  were  the  tailk  and  the  gabelle  levied  on  the 
villain  burghers,  if  the  nobles  derived  no  benefit 
from  these  exactions?  The  noble  was  the  kind's 
soldier,  bound  to  obey  his  summons  to  the  field  and 
to  defend  him  against  his  enemies.  But,  unless  his 
pension  were  regidarly  paid,  he  was  unable  even  to 
keep  his  arms  and  equipments  in  proper  condition. 
He  was  loyally  desirous,  in  the  present  crisis,  to  fight 


%' 


I       "II   ?        'B 


^  Concerning  the  immense  num- 
ber of  offices  and  office  hunters,  the 
Bale  of  places,  and  the  rapid  for- 
tunes accumulated  by  the  holders, 
—  through  the  largeness  not  of  the 
salaries,  but  of  the  irregular  perqui- 
sites, and  the  common  facilities  for 
extortion,  —  consult  Basin,  torn.  ii. 
cap.  2,  6,  7,  and  Commines,  torn.  i. 
p.  65.  It  was,  perhaps,  as  much  to 
avoid  being  pestered  with  solicita- 
tions as  from  a  perception  of  the 
greater  evils  attendant  on  a  system 
of  frequent  removals,  that  Louis 
XL  laid  down  a  rule,  though  with- 
out always  abiding  by  it,  that  all 


offices  not  strictly  political  should  he 
held  not  at  the  pleasure  of  the  crown, 
but  "  on  good  behavior."  To  tlie 
neglect  of  this  fundamental  principle 
of  a  well  organized  state,  more  than 
to  any  other  predisposing  cause, 
may  be  ascribed  the  difficulties  and 
perils  whicV  the  great  American  re- 
public —  so  fortunate  in  its  exemp- 
tion from  all  external  sources  of 
embarrassment — has  had  to  encoun- 
ter. "  Je  parle  de  cca  offices  et  auc- 
toritez,"  remarks  the  sagacious  Com-« 
mines,  "pour  ce  qu'ih  font  desirer 
mutations,  et  au^si  sont  caute  Mi- 
celles." 


CHAP,  v.]         GENERAL  ARMING  OP  THE  NOBLES. 


245 


on  the  king's  side ;  but  the  very  suit  of  armor  which 
he  had  intended  to  purchase  for  the  occasion  —  only 
waiting  till  he  should  receive  the  arrears  of  his  pen- 
sion— had  been  bought  in  the  mean  while  by  another 
person,  —  his  own  brother,  in  fact,  —  who  had  gone 
off  to  join  the  count  of  Charolais.* 

Such  being  the  situation  and  the  feelings  of  the 
mass  of  the  nobility,  no  wonder  that  the  appeals  of 
the  confederate  princes  roused  a  universal  echo,  and 
tiiat  a  joyous  bustle  now  filled  every  courtyard  and 
moated  tower  from  the  rock-bound  coast  of  Brittany 
to  the  sunny  plains  of  Provence.  The  war-steed  — 
or,  in  default  of  an  animal  deserving  of  that  name, 
the  hackney  or  .  the  plough-horse  —  was  harnessed 
lor  battle.''  The  steel  casque  and  cuirass  were 
taken  down  from  the  walls  where  they  had  rusted 
since  the  expulsion  of  the  English.  A  new  genera- 
tion was  to  wear  them.  Yet  some  of  the  survivors 
of  the  English  wars,  some  of  the  veteran  chiefs  of  the 
icorchtiirs,  displayed  as  much  alacrity  and  mettle  as 
those  to  whom  their  exploits  had  first  become  familiar 
in  tlie  tales  and  ballads  of  the  nursery.  Old  Dunois, 
the  famous  Bastard  of  Orleans,  who  had  fought  by 
the  side  of  Joan  of  Arc,  forgot  his  gout,  as  lilvcwise 


■ill 


*  See  the  letter  —  highly  charac- 
teristic of  the  sentiments  and  conduct 
of  the  class  to  which  the  •writer  be- 
longed —  containing  the  excuses  of 
Jeiin  d'Arly,  a  nobleman  of  Picar- 
dy,  for  not  joining  the  royal  stand- 
ard when  called  upon.  Doc.  Ined., 
Melanges,  torn.  ii.  p.  290. 


•  The  sudden  rise  in  the  price  of 
horses,  and  the  difficulty,  amount- 
ing almost  to  impossibility,  of  pro- 
curing any  fit  for  the  field,  are  no- 
ticed in  letters  of  the  time  as  well  as 
by  the  chroniclers.  See,  for  exam- 
ple, a  letter  in  the  Doc.  Ined.,  Me'- 
langes,  torn.  ii.  pp.  241, 242. 


246 


WAK  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


a  mission  which  he  had  undertaken  at  the  kinsr's 
request,  and  went  oflf  to  join  Loheae,  Sancerre,  and 
others  of  his  former  companions-in-arms,  in  Brittany. 
A  murmur  of  the  distant  war-cry  reached  the  cham- 
ber in  the  Bastille  where  the  count  of  Dammartin 
was  expiating  his  imprudence  in  having  decided  to 
remain  in  France  and  claim  an  impartial  verdict  from 
the  royal  "justice"  —  "grace"  being,  in  his  case, 
something  not  to  be  hoped  for.  Stimulated  by  the 
cheering  sound,  he  contrived  to  cut  a  hole  in  the 
thick  w^all  of  the  tower  in  which  he  was  confined, 
and,  escaping  into  Brittany,  received  there  the  wel- 
come due  to  the  ablest  and  most  experienced  soldier 
of  the  time.'" 

There  could  be  no  better  proof  of  the  general  and 
instinctive  perception  that  the  real  question  at  issue 
was  the  existence  of  feudalism  as  a  rival  power  to 
monarchical  authority,  than  the  abandonment  of  the 
royal  cause  by  all  who  had  any  interest  in  the  main- 
tenance of  feudal  independence.  It  was  not  merely 
by  those  whom  he  had  injured,  or  by  thase  whom  he 
had  slighted,  that  Louis  found  himself  attacked.  He 
was  deserted  or  betrayed  by  such  as  he  had  favored 
and  caressed.  In  his  hostile  policy  towards  his  great 
vassals  he  had  made  an  exception  in  favor  of  the 
Armagnacs,  the   ancient   enemies  of  the  house  of 


'"  "  Trouva  et  feitun  troue  en  ung 
des  murs  de  la  toiu',"  says  Duclercq, 
(torn.  iv.  p.  Ill,)  who  adds  other 
purticulars  of  his  escape.  His  pre- 
vious vicis-situdes,  sudden  appear- 
ance before  the  king  at  Bordeaux, 


and  demand  for  "justice,"  arc  re- 
counted in  the  Cabinet  de  Louis  XL, 
in  the  Chronique  sur  Dammartin, 
and  in  documents  printed  by  Gode- 
froy  and  by  LenglcL 


CHAP,  v.]       INFLDEUTi   OF  THE  KING'S  FRIENDS. 


247 


Burgundy.  The  head  of  this  family,  Count  John, 
whose  infamous  life  was  t^e  scandal  of  Christendom,^^ 
had  not  only  obtained  a  remission  of  the  sentence  of 
banishment  and  confiscation  pronounced  against  him 
in  the  last  reign,  but  had  received  such  tokens  of  the 
royal  regard  as  formed  a  contrast  to  the  treatment 
experienced  by  persons  of  a  diiferent  character.  His 
brother,  too,  had  been  created  duke  of  Nemours,  and 
stood  so  high  in  the  confidence  of  Louis  that  he  wa.-j 
even  designated  as  '•  the  favorite."  ^~  Was  it  possible 
that  these  men  had  secretly  joined  the  alliance  against 
the  king  ?  Hearing  a  rumor  to  that  effect,  he  sent 
them  a  summons  to  join  him,  with  their  levies,  in  the 
Bourbonnais,  where  the  standard  of  revolt  was  first 
unfurled.  They  obeyed  the  call,  and,  on  their  arrival, 
gave  their  aid  to  the  enemy. 

The  course  pursued  by  the  count  of  Nevers  was 
hardly  less  extraordinary.  He  was  bound  to  a  stren- 
uous support  of  the  king,  and  to  a  strenuous  resist- 
ance to  the  most  resolute  of  the  king's  opponents, 
not  only  by  the  tie  of  gratitude,  but  by  the  stronger 
tie  of  a  common  enmity.  Yet,  notwithstanding  that 
no  ovartures  were  made  to  him  by  the  count  of  Cha- 
rolais, — notwithstanding  that  his  own  overtures  were 
scornfully  rejected,  —  at  the  moment  when  he  was 
soliciting  money  and  supplies  to  enable  him  to  put 


"  Among  other  instances  of  his 
villany  and  orazen  effrontery  was  his 
request  for  a  papal  dispensation  to 
enable  him  to  marry  his  own  sister, 
M'ith  whom  he  lived  in  notorious 
concubinage. 


'*  He  is  called  the  "  mignon  de 
roy  Loys  "  in  the  letter  of  Sir  Robert 
Neville's  previously  cited.  Tlie  king's 
early  partiality  for  the  Armagiuics 
had  its  origin  in  the  obscure  divisions 
and  intrigues  of  his  father's  court. 


hi-       ':i 


bt       U 


■ 


248 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  AVEAL. 


[book  1, 


the  fortresses  in  Picardy  in  a  state  of  defence,  he  was 
endeavoring,  by  abject  entreaties  and  through  circui- 
tous channels,  to  obtain  from  his  implacaole  kinsman 
permission  to  desert  to  his  standard.^' 

Tlie  house  of  Anjou,  the  eldest  collateral  branch 
of  the  royal  family,  was  in  precisely  the  same  situa- 
tion as  the  house  of  Burgundy.  Good  King  Rene 
had  as  little  relish  for  civil  war  as  the  good  Duke 
Philip.  But  he  too  had  an  only  son  whose  temper 
was  ardent  and  stern,  and  who  was  personally  hostile 
to  the  French  monarch.  John  of  Calabria,  as  he  was 
called  from  his  claim  to  the  Neapolitan  duchy  of  that 
name,  had  the  restless  and  davuitless  spirit  that  dis- 
tinguished his  sister  Margaret,  the  exiled  queen  of 
England.  His  life,  like  that  of  Margaret,  was  wasted 
in  stormy  but  fruitless  efforts  for  the  recovery  of  a 
lost  kingdom.  He  had  applied  to  Louis  to  assist  him 
in  an  attempt  to  get  possession  of  the  inheritance 
bequeathed  to  his  father  by  Joanna  of  Naples;  but, 
instead  of  receiving  an}*  aid  from  that  quarter,  he 
had  reason  to  suspect  that  his  plans  had  been  foiled 
through  information  secretly  furnished  to  his  rival 
by  the  French  court.  He  now  eagerly  embraced  the 
opportunity  for  vengeance ;  and,  being  the  idol  of 
the  Provencal  nobility,"  he  found  no  difficulty  in 


"  Ncvers  could  plead,  however, 
by  way  of  excuse,  tlie  general  disaf- 
fection of  the  nobles  of  Picardy  and 
the  lifivemais,  and  the  flight  even 
of  the  members  of  his  household  — 
unless,  indeed,  these  were  partly  con- 
sequences of  his  own  lack  of  loyalty 


and  good  faith.  See  the  Doc.  Indd., 
Melanges,  torn.  ii.  pp.  257,  301,  et 
al. ;  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  pp.  142-146. 
'*  "  Hz  ont  monseigneui"  de  Cala- 
bre  comme  leur  Dieu."  Lettre  de 
Pierre  Gruel  au  Roi,  Uoc.  Indd., 
Mdlanges,  torn.  ii.  p.  382. 


CHAP,  v.] 


ISOLATION  OF  LOUIS. 


249 


setting  aside  the  pacific  policy  of  Ren^,  and  enrolling 
the  vassals  of  his  house  in  this  general  gathering  of 
feudal  France. 


Thus,  at  the  moment  when  the  contest  was  about 
to  commence,  the  chances  of  Louis  were  already  des- 
perate. The  kingdom  was  in  arms  against  the  king. 
The  provinces  had  risen  against  the  capital.  The 
supporters  of  the  monarchy  had  combined  to  over- 
throw the  monarchy.  The  royal  family  had  deter- 
mined on  the  extinction  of  royalty.  The  sovereign 
stood  alone ;  alone,  for  of  the  few  who  remained 
arjund  him  not  one  was  to  be  trusted;  alone,  for 
liiose  who  should  have  made  common  cause  with 
him  —  the  inhabitants  of  the  towns,  all  seeking  to 
emancipate  themselves  from  the  feudal  yoke  and 
to  obtain  a  closer  connection  with  the  crown  — 
chose  to  assume  the  attitude  of  passive  and  indifler- 
ent  spectators.'^ 

The  towns  on  the  Somme  had  an  especial  interest 
in  the  quarrel.  They  had  concurred  joyfully  in  the 
late  transfer  of  their  allegiance  to  the  king,  who,  to 
strengilicn  their  fidelity,  had  exempted  them  from 
the  payment  of  the  taille,  and  even  reduced  the  im- 
posts which  had  been  levied  upon  them  by  the  duke 
of  Burgundy.  It  was  impossible  that  they  should 
be  deluded  by  the  pretexts  and  promises  of  the 
3onfederates.  These,  as  Louis  reminded  his  people, 
were   the  shallow  and   stale   devices  employed  on 

'*  "  Sembloient  bien,"  says  Com-    tassent  qui  seroit  le  plus  fort  ou  le 
mines,  (torn.  i.  p.  21,)  "  qu'ilz  escou-    Roy  ou  les  seigneurs." 
VOL.  I.  32 


■■■\    I'i 


u 


250 


WAR  OF  TIIE  PUBLIC  ^VEAL. 


[book  I. 


many  former  occasions  for  convulsing  the  realm  and 
spreading  calainitics  and  horrors  of  which  the  recol- 
lection was  still  fresh,  of  which  the  bloody  imprint 
t  ad  not  yet  been  erased.'"  The  nobles  had  pro- 
claimed their  intention  to  abolish  the  taxes.  In  tlie 
:.unc  breath  they  had  complained  tliat  their  pensions 
we: .  unpaid.  How  were  they  to  be  satisfied  on  this 
latter  point  without  augmenting  the  burdens  they 
were  so  anxious  to  remove  ?  No  one  could  complain 
that  the  king  had  appropriated  the  revenues  of  the 
crown  to  his  personal  gratifications.  They  had  been 
expended  in  providing  for  the  ordinary  necessities 
of  the  state,  in  maintaining  forces  for  its  protection, 
ard  in  redeeming  territory  which  had  been  ahenated 
in  the  preceding  reign.  What  remained  had  been 
distributed  among  the  nobles.  The  king  himself  had 
lived  like  a  pauper,  while,  as  he  proudly  averred, 
he  had  toiled  more  diligently  for  the  benefit  of  his 
people  than  any  monarch  of  France  since  Charle- 
magne.*'' 

What  prevented  his  appeals  from  producing  their 
due  effect  with  the  towns  on  the  Somme  was  the 


'^  "  Es  autres  divisions  passdes 
qui  ont  este  en  ce  royaume,  tant  du 
temps  du  roy  de  Navarre,  des  Mai- 
Ucz,  et  de  cc  qui  fut  dit  et  seme  par 
avant  I'an  MCCCCXVIH,  ceulx  qui 
r-usciterent  et  meirent  sus  lesdites 
divisions,  laisoient  telles  faulses  se- 
mances  et  remonstrances  pour  atraire 
le  pcuple  k  eulx,  qui  depuis  s'en 
trouva  deceu.  Car,  ainsi  que  les 
choses  sont  assez  noloires  et  eonnues 
h  plusieurs  qui  les  ont  veues  a  I'ueil, 


il  s'en  ensuivist  la  destruction.de  la 
pluspart  du  royaume,  .  .  .  niaux  iii- 
finis  et  innumerables,  dont  tout  le 
royaume  se  sent  encore  et  sentira 
d'uy  h,  cent  ans."  Avertissement  du 
Roy  aux  Villes  d'Auvergne,  Doc. 
Ined.,  Melanges,  torn.  ii.  p.  214. 

"  See  various  letters  and  procla- 
mations in  the  Doc.  Ined.,  ubi  supra, 
et  al. ;  Duclercq,  tom.  iv.  p.  1 24,  et 
seq. ;  Lenglet,  tom.  ii.  pp.  445-452. 


CHAP,  v.] 


NEUIRALITY  OF  THE  TOWNS. 


251 


iducing  their 
me  was  the 


dilapidated  state  of  the  fortifications,  the  want  of 
irarrisons  sufficient  even  to  head  the  resistance,  above 
all  the  teniporizhig  and  disloyal  conduct  of  the  king's 
lieutenant.  The  confederates,  on  their  part,  cautiously 
abstained  from  every  act  that  might  have  provoked 
the  people  to  take  up  arms.  Plunder  was  not  permit- 
ted to  the  troops ;  the  traveller  was  uinnolested ;  the 
merchant's  bales  were  as  safe  on  tlie  high  roa^^  as  in 
time  of  peace  ;  supplies  were  paid  for  v  itli  a  ,  tn.  i- 
lous  exactness  hitherto  unknown  in  war.  Tl  s,  w  e 
a  struggle  involving  the  very  existence  of '  ■  1  rench 
nation  was  going  on  in  the  heart  of  the  kizigu  tn,  the 
towns  were  enabled  to  maintain  a  strict  yi'^:rality, 
and  to  shut  out  the  destructive  element  which  had 
smitten  them  so  terribly  in  former  struggles  of  the 
like  nature.  The  thunder-cloud  passed  harndessly 
over,  to  discharge  its  bolt  upon  the  head  of  Louis. 
It  was  for  him  to  protect  himself  as  he  could. 

He  had  formed  originally  a  bold  though  simple 
plan  for  encountering  his  enemies  in  detail.  His 
forces  consisted  chiefly  of  the  small  regular  army 
first  established  by  his  father,  and  of  the  feudal  levies 
of  Dauphine  and  Savoy.  Retaining  under  his  own 
command  the  greater  portion  of  these  troops,  he  had 
hastened  southward  to  attack  the  duke  of  Bourbon, 
—  who  had  imprudently  commenced  the  war  before 
his  allies  were  on  the  march,  —  hoping,  as  there 
were  few  fortified  places  in  the  province,  to  overrun 
it,  and  crush  the  rebellion  in  a  few  weeks.  In  the 
mean  time  he  expected  the  count  of  Maine,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  house  of  Anjou,  brother  of  Ren^,  to  hold 


I 


n¥' 


r '(||  .ill,  \fi 


252 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  1. 


11 


the  Bretons  in  check ;  while  Nevers,  in  like  manner, 
was  to  obstruct  the  advance  of  the  Burgundian  army 
througli  Picjirdj  until  the  king  could  go  thither  in 
person.  The  celerity  of  his  movements  and  the  vigor 
of  his  attack  would  have  ensured  the  success  of  this 
plan,  in  spite  of  the  coldness  and  secret  disafiection 
of  Nevers  and  Maine,  had  it  not  been  for  the  de- 
sertion of  the  Armagnucs.  He  had  struck  the  half- 
drawn  sword  from  the  weak  hand  of  his  opponent, 
when  he  found  himself  obliged  to  turn  against  his 
treacherous  friends.  The  time  thus  lost  rendered  his 
designs  abortive.  The  count  of  Maine  had  no  inten- 
tion of  fighting.  The  part  he  aspired  to  play  was 
that  of  a  mediator.  Himself  a  prince  of  the  blood, 
his  only  desire  was  to  find  a  means  of  reconciling 
the  unhappy  differences  between  the  members  of  the 
royal  family  —  in  other  words,  of  disarming  the  king 
and  placing  him  at  the  mercy  of  his  enemies.  He 
retired  before  the  forces  opposed  to  him ;  the  count 
of  Charolais  encountered  as  little  resistance  from 
Nevers;  and  thus  from  the  west  and  north  two 
armies  were  about  to  effect  a  junction  under  the 
walls  of  the  capital.  If  they  gained  an  entrance, 
the  crown  of  France  was  lost  to  Louis.  He  must  fly 
the  kingdom.  Within  it  there  would  be  left  to  him 
no  hope  of  succor,  no  possible  chance  of  obtaining 
shelter  from  his  triumphant  and  rancorous  foes. 

He  had  been  recently  seized  with  an  extraordinary 
affection  for  his  fair  city  of  Paris.  He  had  declared, 
with  truth,  that  all  his  hopes  centred  in  the  loyalty 
of  its  inhabitants.    He  was  about  to  send  his  queen 


CHAP,  v.]         THE  KING'S  AFFECTION  FOR  PARIS. 


253 


e  manner. 


to  reside  with  them  —  to  be  protected  by  them,  to  be 
carefully  watched  and  attended  in  her  time  of  need.^^ 
For  he  took  this  opportunity  of  announcing  that  she 
was  pregnant.  Whether  her  expected  child  would 
prove  a  son, — whether  the  duke  of  Berri  would  long 
continue  to  hold  the  position  of  heir-presumptive, 
was  a  matter  which  Louis  was  content  to  leave  to 
the  decision  of  Heaven  —  of  his  patrons  the  Blessed 
Virgin  and  Saint  Francis.'* 

He  was  not  ignorant,  however,  that  he  had  many 
cold  friends,  the  allies  many  secret  adherents,  in 
the  capital.  He  had  kept  a  jealous  eye  upon  it  while 
engaged  in  active  operations  in  the  centre  of  the 
kingdom ;  and,  when  informed  that  hostile  armies 
were  fast  approaching,  he  patched  up  an  armistice 
with  the  Armagnacs,  leaving  the  account  between 
them  to  be  settled  on  a  future  occasion,  and  once 
more  turned  his  face  northward. 

The  forces  under  the  count  of  Charolais  consisted  of 
fourteen  hundred  men-at-arms,  with  their  customary 


'f- 


'"  "  Leur  mandoit  qu'il  leur  en- 
voyeroic  la  RojTie  pour  accoucher  h, 
Paris,  comme  h,  Ville  du  monde  que 
plus  il  aimoit."  De  Troyes,  in  Len- 
glet,  torn.  ii.  p.  21. 

'°  "  Le  Roy  scjait  bien  que  mondit 
sieur  de  Berry  est  son  seal  frere,  . .  . 
et  au  regard  d'estre  heritier  presomp- 
tif  du  Roy,  Ic  Roy  ne  dit  oncques 
ne  fit  chose  dont  il  eut  cause  de  soy 
douloii-,  .  .  .  mais  la  mercy  Dim,  le 
Roy  est  encore  jeune  et  vcrtueux,  et 
la  Reine  est  en  estat  de  disposition 


de  porter  dcs  enfans,  et  est  a  present 
enseincte  d'enfant,  [a  slight  miscal- 
culation, since  her  next  child  was  not 
born  till  more  than  two  years  after- 
wards,] et  de  ce  qui  surviendra  en 
ce  cas,  le  Roy  le  remet  en  la  dispo- 
sition de  notredit  Seigneur,  et  apres 
h  Notre-Dame  et  Saint  Fran9ois." 
Reaponces  faitcs  par  le  Roy  aux  Ar- 
ticles touchant  ce  qui  avoit  este  pour- 
parle  entre  le  Roy  de  Sicile  et  Mon- 
sieur le  Due  de  Berry  et  autres, 
Lenglet,  torn.  ii.  p.  449. 


11^ 


J,  ■•  1      I-    " 


254 


WAR  OF  llIE  PUBLIC  \VEAL. 


(nooK  I. 


attendants,  and  eight  thousand  archers,  besides  many 
pieces  of  artillery,  such  as  were  then  in  common  use, 

—  "  bombards,"  "  veuglaires,"  "  serpentines,"  &c.,  — 
machines  which  made  a  direful  noise,  and  were  capa- 
ble also  of  doing  considerable  mischief,  sometimes  to 
an  enemy,  more  often,  in  the  present  campaign,  to  the 
inexpert  artillerymen.  Only  a  portion  of  the  feudal 
levies  of  the  Netherlands  were  comprised  in  this  array. 
The  leaders  of  the  expedition  —  Charles  himself,  the 
count  of  Saint-Pol,  the  Sire  de  Ravenstein,  and  others 

—  had  sent  out  invitations  to  the  nobles,  requesting 
them  to  assom])le  at  the  place  of  muster  with  their 
friends  and  dependants.  There  had  been  no  lack  of 
zeal ;  but  there  was  a  great  deficiency  of  horses  and 
of  proper  arms  and  accoutrements.  Of  those  who 
responded  to  the  summons  the  larger  number  were 
dismissed  as  too  ill  equipped  for  service.'^''  Few  of 
those  who  remained  had  had  any  experience  of  war. 
All,  perhaps,  were  accustomed  to  the  use  of  weapons ; 
but  they  had  not  been  trained  to  act  in  concert,  or 
to  obey  the  voice  of  their  commander  in  actual  con- 
flict. They  had  been  brought  together  and  prepared 
for  service  "in  an  instant."'^*  Loans  and  donatives  had 
been  obtained  from  wealthy  burghers,  in  anticipation 
of  a  grant  from  the  estates ;  the  artillery  had  been 
taken  from  the  arsen.al  of  Lille ;  the  cities  had  fur- 
nished tents,  and  a  multitude  of  wagons  not  only  for 

*"  "  Quant  la  monstre  fut  faicte,        *'   "  Ceste  armee  estant  preste, 

il  y  eut  plus  k  faire  h,  les  renvoyer  qui  fut  tout  k  ung  instant."    Idem, 

que   k  les    appeller."      Commines,  p.  20, 
torn.  i.  p.  19.  • 


CHAP,  y.]        MARCH  OF  TIIE  BURGUNDIAN  AUMY. 


255 


the  conveyance  of  the  baggage,  but  to  enclose  the 
encampment  and  serve  as  a  defence ;  and  on  the 
IGth  of  May,  less  than  a  month  after  the  note  of 
war  had  first  been  sounded,  the  army  began  its 
march. 

Saint-Pol  commanded  the  vanguard;  Ravenstein, 
the  battle  or  main  corps ;  Antony,  called  the  Great 
Bastard  of  Burgundy,  the  rearguard.  The  count 
of  Charolais  accompanied  Saint-Pol.  In  his  train 
were  the  duke  of  Somerset,  the  earl  of  Buclian,  and 
other  foreigners  of  rank,  besides  several  old  cap- 
tains, on  whose  judgment  he  could  rely,  but  whose 
voices  were  too  often  drowned  by  those  of  the 
ignorant  and  clamorous  multitude.  Unfurling  its 
gorgeous  banners  of  silk  and  embroidered  gold,  on 
which  were  displayed  the  cross  of  Saint  Andrew 
and  the  devices  of  the  different  chiefs,  the  army, 
amounting  in  the  whole  to  fourteen  thousand  com- 
batants, all  on  horseback,  crossed  the  frontier  of 
Picardy.  No  enemy  appeared  to  dispute  their  ad- 
vance. They  took  up  their  quarters  in  the  villages 
and  smaller  towns  along  the  route  ;  dined  and  supped 
like  peaceful  travellers,  paying  for  whatever  they  con- 
sumed ;  but  maintained  always  a  careful  look-out,  and 
wor  e  excited  and  alert  whenever  the  scouts  announced 
a  distant  cloud  of  dust,  or  the  sentinels  cried  an  alarm 
as  a  party  of  friendly  nobles  rode  into  the  camp.  In 
the  neighborhood  of  Peronne  a  body  of  troops  were 
seen  stationed  in  observation.  These  were  a  few 
hundred  lances  under  Joachim  de  Rouault,  l;  ishal 
of  France,  accompanied  by  Nevers.    They  speedily 


i  i 


256 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBUO  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


disappeared  —  Nevers  returning  into  the  town,  and 
the  marshal  with  his  men  retreating  In  the  direction 
of  Paris.  Occasionally  a  small  party  of  cavaliers 
quitted  the  ^ine  of  march,  and  went  off  in  quest  of 
adventure,  liding  up  to  the  walls  of  a  town,  and 
demanding,  in  the  formal  phrase  of  chivalry,  whether 
there  were  within  any  man  of  gentle  birth  who  de- 
sired to  break  a  lance  for  his  lady's  sake.^'  But  it 
was  seldom  that  their  ardor  for  omprise  was  gratified. 
The  towns,  weakly  fortified,  deserted  by  the  nobility, 
faintly  encouraged  to  resistance  by  Nevers,  and 
abandoned  by  the  small  force  which  Louis  had  been 
able  to  spare  for  their  defence,  judged  it  imprudent 
to  treat  as  foes  men  whose  demands  were  so  moder- 
ate, and  who,  after  a  brief  parley,  brought  up  their 
serpentines  and  pointed  them  at  the  walls.  The 
castle  of  Beaulieu  stood  a  week's  si«ge,  but  yielded 
before  the  assault.  In  this  easy  warfare  the  month 
of  June  was  passed ;  and  on  the  5th  of  July,  the  ap- 
pointed day,  Charles  arrived  at  Saini>Denis,  two 
leagues  north  of  Paris,  and  the  place  of  general  ren- 
dezvous.-'* 

His  allies,  more  dilatory  in  their  movements,  had 
not  yet  made  their  appearance.     He  was  not  even 


«»  <<  Arrivez  devant  la  villc,  prin- 
drcnt  un  villageois  et  luy  donnant 
quclque  argent,  renvoycrent  dedans 
Noyon,  .  .  .  dire  quo  s'il  y  avoit 
quelque  homme  d'arme  qui  eut  en- 
vie  de  rompre  une  lance  pour  sa 
dame,  qu'il  sortist,  et  qu'il  seroit 
fourny."  Mdmoires  du  Sire  de 
Haynin,  (Publications  de  la  Socicte 


des  Bibliophiles  Beiges,)  torn.  i.  p. 
20. 

''  Haynin,  torn.  i.  pp.  15-22. — 
Commincs,  torn.  i.  p.  21. —  Uuclercq, 
torn.  iv.  pp.  147-154. — Extrait  d'une 
ancienne  Chronique,  Lenglet,  torn.  ii. 
p.  183.  —  Iicttrc  du  comte  de  Cha- 
rolais,  Gachard,  Doc.  In6d.,  torn.  ii. 
pp. 194-196. 


CHAP,  v.] 


THE  BURGUNDIANS  BEFORE  PARIS. 


257 


res,)  torn.  i.  p. 


rcenforced,  as  he  had  expected  to  be,  by  the  lances 
of  the  two  Burgundies.  But  these  disappointments, 
instead  of  damping  the  enthusiasm  of  his  followers, 
served  only  to  inflame  their  desire  for  glory.  Why 
t^iiould  not  Paris  follow  the  example  of  other  towns, 
and,  without  waiting  for  the  summons  of  the  duke 
of  Berri,  open  its  gates  to  the  grandson  of  John  the 
Fearless,  the  son  of  Philip  the  Good,  the  representa- 
tive of  a  line  of  princes  not  less  popular  in  the  cap- 
ital of  France  than  in  their  own  dominions,  and 
regarded  by  the  mass  of  the  citizens  as  the  cham- 
pions of  popular  liberty?  The  garrison  was  small, 
comprising  merely  the  sfime  troops  that  had  fled 
l)efore  the  army  on  its  march.  Such  a  force  would 
avail  nothing  against  the  general  sentiment  of  the 
inliabitants.  In  assured  confidence  as  to  the  issue, 
and  with  valor  corresponding  to  their  hopes,  the  Bur- 
tijundian  cavaliers  advanced  towards  the  outer  barrier, 
driving  before  them  Rouault  «ind  a  party  of  his  men- 
at-arms,  who  had  come  out  to  reconnoitre. 

However,  the  walls  did  not  fall  down  before  them ; 
and  they  were  fain  to  have  recourse  to  their  bom- 
bards and  serpentines,  which  produced  "  a  fine  hurly- 
burly,"  and  even  occasioned  some  casualties,  but 
without  any  decisive  result.^*  Their  friends  within 
did  their  best  to  assist  them  by  running  wildly 
through  the  streets  and  crying  out  that  the  enemy 
iiad  broken  in — hoping,  by  this  artful  stroke,  to  cause 

"  "  Lors  y  eut  beau  hurtilibus  de     aucuns  de  tuez   et  navrcz."      De 
canons,  vulgaires,  serpentines,  coul-    Troyes,  Lenglet,  torn.  ii.  p.  25. 
verines,  ct  autre  traict,  dont  y  eut 
voi,.  I.  33 


.m 


■ill 
Hi 


I  m 


*  ►; 

i 

M 

gwn 

i  ^fi 

1 

^^' 

^7^ 

-*3- 

B    Vj  5|) 

1" 

.  _ 

t-l  r 

1  J 

1 

1 

•  I 

} 

^i 

': 
■!     i 

"P 

11 

Wm. 

258 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  :. 


confusion  and  frighten  thfe  opposite  party  into  sub- 
mission. Rouault,  however,  kept  the  g-ates  closed, 
and  would  not  even  permit  an  answer  to  be  given 
to  the  summons  sent  by  the  count  of  Charolais, 
who  asked  merely  to  be  admitted  as  the  lieutenant 
of  the  duke  of  Berri,  and  to  be  supi^lied  with  neces- 
saries at  fair  rates  of  payment.  At  this  rebuff  the 
valiant  Burgundians,  by  their  own  confession,  were 
greatly  astonished  and  dismayed.^  They  caracoled 
for  five  or  six  hours  in  front  of  the  walls,  by  way  of 
provoking  the  men-at-arms  to  come  out  and  skirmish ; 
but  the  royalist  cavaliers  contented  themselves  with 
viewing  this  exhibition  from  the  ramparts.  It  was 
the  opinion  of  the  more  experienced  chiefs  that  the 
place  was  not  too  strong  to  be  carried  by  a  sudden 
assault.  An  entrance  gained,  the  garrison  would 
easily  be  overpowered ;  and  the  people,  even  if  un- 
friendly, would  count  for  nothing  in  a  struggle  of  this 
kind.  But  the  risk  was  too  great.  The  attempt  might 
fail ;  and  the  citizens,  alarmed  for  the  safet}^  of  their 
property  and  lives,  would  be  roused  into  decided  hos- 
tility, and  be  ready  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  the  proposals 
of  the  confederates  when  an  opportunity  had  arisen 
The  war  must  be  carried  on  in  the 


for  negotiation 


"'  "  Dont  plusieurs  des  nostres 
furent  esbahis,  car  Ton  pensoit  que 
quand  ceux  de  Paris  verroient  la 
puissance  du  comte  de  Charrolois, 
.  .  .  qu'ils  lie  deussent  oser  tenir, 
ains  incontinent  soy  rendre  h  I'obc- 
issancc  dudict  duo  de  Berry,  et  de 
son  lieutenant  le  comte  de  Charro- 


lois." Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  23.  —  "  A 
mondit  seigneur  trouve  ceulx  de 
Paris  tout  aultres  que  Ten  ne  cui- 
doit ;  dont  il  n'est  pas  bien  content 
sur  eulx."  Lettre  d'uii  ofRcier  du 
comte  de  Charolais  au  Bailli  d'Au- 
xerre,  Doc.  lucd.,  Melanges,  tom.  ii. 
p.  350. 


CHAP,  v.] 


COUNCIL  AT  SAINT-DENIS. 


259 


name  of  the  Public  Weal,  for  the  benefit  of  the  people, 
against  a  single  foe  —  the  king.  If  Louis  should  be 
defeated,  the  capital  would  not  fail  to  give  admit- 
tance to  the  victors.^ 

Governed  by  these  considerations,  the  count  of 
Charolais  returned  to  Saint-Denis,  and  consulted  with 
his  principal  officers  as  to  the  best  course  to  pursue. 
Tlie  debate,  however,  was  not  confined  to  the  council- 
chamber  of  the  leader ;  it  was  carried  on  by  the  whole 
army,  and  with  a  fair  prospect  of  arriving  at  unanim- 
ity of  opinion.  The  cry  became  loud  and  general 
that  it  was  time  to  return  home.  These  gallant 
gentlemen  considered  that  they  had  done  enough. 
Had  they  not  crossed  two  rivers,  the  Oise  and  the 
Marne,  waved  their  defiant  lances  under  the  strong- 
hold of  the  foe,  taunting  him  to  come  forth  and  do 
battle,  and  so  discharged  their  duty  as  men  of  honor 
and  approved  good  knights  ?  Their  commander,  too, 
had  kept  faith  with  his  allies  j  it  was  for  them  to 
bear  the  penalty  of  their  slackness.  What  he  ought 
now  to  reflect  upon  was  the  situation  of  his  own 
army,  fifty  leagues  from  the  frontier  of  his  father's 
provinces,  with  many  fortified  places  in  its  rear  — 
phices,  for  the  most  part,  which  had  nofr  received 
garrisons,  and  which  had  given  no  stronger  pledge 
of  their  pacific  intentions  than  a  promise  of  neutral- 
ity extorted  from  their  fears  or  granted  by  their 
apathy.  Let  the  Burgundian  forces  be  defeated  and 
compelled  to   retreat,   and   the   real   value   of  this 

^^  Commines,  torn,  i,  pp.  22, 23.  —  Basin,  torn.  ii.  pp.  116,  117.  —  Du- 
clercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  165. 


f0 


260 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


'.  m. 


I    ,')•' 


■,■,< 


agreement  would  speedily  become  apparent.^  To 
remonstrances  such  as  these  Charles  had  nothing  to 
oppose  save  his  own  stubborn  resolution.  "  I  have 
crossed  the  Oise  and  the  Marne,"  he  sjud;  "and  I 
will  cross  the  Seine,  though  I  should  have  but  a 
single  page  for  my  escort."^ 

In  fact  the  army  was  not  in  so  forlorn  or  desperate 
a  position  as  it  imagined.  Paris,  it  is  true,  was  not 
yet  ready  to  surrender.  The  impatience  of  the  count 
of  Charolais  would  not  have  suffered  him,  even  had 
it  been  politic,  to  remain  longer  at  Saint-Denis.  But 
the  original  combinations  were  far  from  having  failed. 
The  junction  of  the  confederates  could  as  well  be 
effected  at  some  point  soulli  of  the  capital  as  on  the 
north.  In  that  direction,  indeed,  —  since  Paris  had 
given  the  Burgundians  a  reception  so  different  from 
what  had  been  anticipated, —  lay  tBe  real  field  of 
their  operations.  The  king  was  now  returning,  by 
forced  mn^'^'^es,  from  the  Bourbonnais.  On  his  right 
the  mai  4iii,l  «  /  Burgundy  and  the  duke  of  Calabria, 
on  his  left  the  dukes  of  Brittany  and  Berri,  were 
marching  from  opposite  quarters  to  the  same  common 
destination.  The  duke  of  Bourbon  and  the  Ar- 
magnacs  might  be  expected  to  hang  upon  his  rear. 
To  get  between  him  and  the  capital,  —  to  cut  him 
off  from  his  onl}'  place  of  refuge,  his  only  chance  of 
succor ;  to  drive  him  back  upon  the  foes  gathering 

"''  Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  25.  —  Com-  s'ils  ne  le  vouloient  suivre,  il  ne  Ic 

mines,  torn.  i.  p.  23.  laisseroit  pour  eulx,  voires  dcust-il 

"  "  Conclud  et  diet  h  ses  gens  qu'il  passer  avec  ung  seul  page."     Hay- 

passeroit  la  riviere  de  Seyne,  et  que  nin,  torn.  i.  p.  26. 


CHAP,  v.] 


MARCH  TO  MON'rLH^Y. 


2G1 


on  every  side,  or  to  complete  his  discomfiture  without 
their  assistance,  —  was  the  clear  duty,  as  well  as  the 
ardent  desire,  of  the  Burgundian  chief.'* 

Having  crossed  the  Seine  at  Saint-Cloud,  where  he 
posted  a  strong  detachment  to  secure  the  transmis- 
i<ion  of  a  supply  of  money  which  he  expected  from 
the  Netherlands,  and  of  which  he  stood  in  urgent 
need,  Charles  marched  towards  the  south,  leaving 
Paris  at  first  on  his  left  flank,  and  afterwards  in  his 
rear,  and  on  the  15th  of  July  arrived  at  Longjumeau. 
Tlie  Bretons,  with  whom  he  was  now  in  counnunica- 
tion,  were  approaching  from  the  west,  and  he  was 
entreated  to  change  his  course  for  the  purpose  of 
meeting  them.  But  he  had  positive  information  that 
Louis  was  rapidly  advancing ;  and  he  determined, 
therefore,  to  take  up  a  position  commanding  the 
approaches  to  the  capital,  and  to  give  battle,  if  neces- 
sary or  feasible,  without  waiting  for  his  allies.  On  the 
same  evening  the  scouts  got  sight  of  a  small  troop 
of  horsemen  beyond  Montlhery,  a  village  three  miles 
south  of  Longjumeau,  and  already  occupied  by  the 
Burgundian  vanguard  under  the  count  of  Saint-Pol. 
That  chief  had  quartered  his  troops  in  the  illage, 
notwithstanding  that  the  neighboring  eminci  .'e,  from 
which  it  derived  its  name,  was  crowned  by  a  castle  in 
possession  of  a  royal  garrison  —  having  entered  into 


1^ 


■# 


Ills' 

i 


-'  Lettre  du  marcchal  de  Ga- 
madies  an  Chancellier ;  Lettre  du 
(iiinte  de  Charolais  au  Due  de  Bour- 
:;ogne ;  Mandement  du  comte  de 
rimrolais  aux  gens  de  sa  maison ; 


Lettre  d'un  offiticr  du  comte  de 
Charolais  au  Bailli  d'Auxerre,  Doc. 
Incd.,  Melanges,  torn.  ii.  pp.  346- 
351.  —  Commines,  torn.  i.  pp.  23-- 
26. 


H'?  -  I 


262 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book 


an  agreement  with  the  commandant  that  no  hostili- 
ties should  be  offered  on  either  side.  Hearing,  how- 
ever, of  the  enemy's  approach,  of  which  he  gave 
immediate  notice  to  Charles,  Saint-Pol  withdrew  at 
midnight  to  the  open  ground  on  the  north,  on  the 
left  hand  of  the  road  from  Paris,  having  a  forest  half 
a  league  off  in  his  rear,  Montlhery  being  at  about 
the  same  distance  in  front.^ 

The  night  was  short  and  sultry.  Many  of  the  Bur- 
gundian  cavaliers,  too  excited  for  slumber,  spent  the 
few  remaining  hours  of  darkness  in  pacing  to  and 
fro;  while  others,  still  more  eager  and  alert,  kept 
their  saddles,  ready  to  charge  whenever  the  signal 
should  be  given.^^  With  the  first  gleams  of  light  all 
were  in  motion.  The  count  of  Charolais  arrived  at 
seven  o'c1ov.k  with  the  main  body  of  the  army,  and 
took  post  on  the  right  of  the  road, -thus  prolonging 
the  line  which  had  been  already  formed.  The  wag- 
ons, as  usual,  were  ranged  in  front ;  and  immediately 
behind  this  entrenchment  were  stationed  the  archers 
on  foot,  who  were  also  provided  with  short  stakes, 
after  the  manner  of  the  English,  to  enable  them,  in 
case  of  need,  to  raise  a  temporary  defence  against 
the  onset  of  cavalry.  The  men-at-arms  remained  in 
the  rear ;  but  a  great  number  of  cavaliers  dismounted 
and  mingled  in  the  ranks  of  the  archers,  both  as  the 
more  dangerous  and  honorable  post,  and  with  the 
purpose  of  inciting  the  courage  of  the  men  by  their 
presence  and  example. 


=■»  Haynin,  torn.  i.  pp.  27,  28.- 
tom.  iv.  pp.  IGO,  161. 


-  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  27.  —  Duclercq, 
^'  Haynin.  torn.  i.  p.  28. 


CHAP,  v.] 


BATTLE  OF  MONTLHKRY. 


263 


The  royal  army  was  now  seen  filing  from  the 
wooded  heights  on  the  south,  and  forming  in  line 
behind  a  hedge,  very  high  and  thick,  which  traversed 
the  slopes  of  the  hill.  A  body  of  troops  was  also 
pushed  forward  to  occupy  the  village,  but  the  count 
of  Charolais  sent  out  a  party  to  dislodge  them,  and 
after  a  sharp  skirmish,  the  Burgundians  having  suc- 
ceeded in  setting  fire  to  several  of  the  houses,  the 
flames,  which  were  driven  towards  the  enemy,  com- 
pelled him  to  retreat.  No  attempt  was  made  to 
follow  up  this  advantage.  Each  army  had  chosen  a 
position  where  it  could  remain  on  the  defensive,  and 
each  waited  for  the  other  to  open  the  attack.  A  few 
serpentines  were  discharged  from  time  to  time,  but 
without  any  great  damage  to  either  party. 

Clearly  it  behoved  Louis  to  commence  the  biattle. 
A  long  delay  must  be  fatal  to  him ;  for  the  Burgun- 
dians might  soon  expect  to  be  reenforced  by  their 
allies,  if,  indeed,  these  latter,  advancing  from  difTerent 
quarters,  did  not  fall  upon  his  flanks  and  rear.  The 
object  of  his  march  was  to  throw  himself  into  the 
capital,  and  fix  its  wavering  allegiance  :  he  had  failed 
to  accomplish  this  design  before  the  arrival  of  the 
Burgundians;  and  it  only  remained,  therefore,  that 
he  should  fight  his  way  through.  Yet  his  situation 
was  an  embarrassing  one.  His  march  had  been  so 
rapid  that  most  of  his  archers  and  other  infiintry 
were  still  far  behind.  His  men-at-arms,  though  better 
trained  and  better  equipped  than  those  of  the  enemy, 
were  inferior  in  numbers ;  and,  what  was  far  worse, 
with  the  exception  of  those  under  his   immediate 


264 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  'A'EAL. 


[hook  I, 


'ft 


♦  ;'<S 


''\  I' 


?  1 


-:  I 


command,  he  could  place  no  reliance  on  their  fidelity, 
or  at  least  on  that  of  their  leaders.  The  count  of 
Maine,  indeed,  no  sooner  received  the  king's  orders 
to  prepare  for  battle  than  he  declared  that  he  was 
not  there  for  the  purpose  of  fighting  against  his 
cousin  of  Charolais  and  the  other  members  of  his 
family,  but  in  the  hope  of  restoring  peace  and  amity 
between  them  and  the  king.  Since  the  latter  had 
rejected  his  counsel  and  was  determined  to  give  bat- 
tle, the  count  must  now  bid  him  adieu.  With  this 
remark  he  quitted  the  field,  carrying  with  him  the 
lances  under  his  command.^' 

Louis  had  still  less  right  to  count  upon  the  loyalty 
of  Breze,  the  seneschal  of  Normandy,  who  led  the 
vanguard  of  the  royal  army  Although  he  had  re- 
stored tliis  old  and  distinguished  servant  of  the  crown 
to  the  possession  of  his  hereditiry  dignities,  he  bore 
him  little  love,  and  had  treated  Jiim  with  an  habitual 
lack  of  confidence.  Yet,  with  an  instinctive  percep- 
tion of  his  honesty  of  character,  he  now  besought 
him  to  say  frankly  whether  he  had  not  pledged  his 
faith  to  the  confederates.  "Ay,  truly,"  replied  the 
seneschal,  wdth  his  accustomed  irony,  "  chey  have  my 
seal ;  but  you  have  my  body,  and  to  day  at  least  it 
shall  remain  with  you'"^^ — a  promise  only  partially 


f  't 


'*  "  n  luy  dit,  '  Monseigneur,  j'e- 
tois  venu  avec  vous  pour  vous  servir 
ct  accompagner  et  moyonner  quelque 
bon  accord  entre  vous  et  vostre  beau 
cousin  de  Charolais  et  autres  princes 
de  nostre  sung,  et  non  point  pour  les 
vouloir  combattre,  et  puis  (pi'il  vous 
jilaist  faire  ainsi,  et  non  autrement, 


je  m'en  vois,  adieu  vous  dis,'  Et 
ainsi  se  partit  avec  toute  sa  compa- 
gnie."    Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  33. 

'^  "  Sire,  il  est  vray  qu'ils  ont 
mon  siel  par  Je  lil,  niais  aujoud'hui 
vous  aurez  et  le  coeur  et  le  corj).' 
Idem,  torn.  i.  p.  39.  — "  Luy  dcman- 
da  et  luy  prioit  moult  fort  qu"il  luj 


CHAP,  v.] 


BATTLE  OF  MONTLHERY. 


265 


fulfilled,  for  after  the  action  the  lifeless  body  re- 
mained with  the  enemy. 

Several  hours  had  now  passed  without  any  further 
hostilities  than  an  occasional  and  almost  harmless 
exchange  of  cannon  ,hots.  It  was  high  noon ;  the 
weather,  in  the  expressive  i)hrase  of  one  who  suffered 
from  it,  was  frightfully  hot;''^  and  the  Burgundian 
troops  had  scarcely  a  tree  to  protect  them  from  the 
sweltering  rays  of  the  sun.  They  had  been  under 
arms  since  dawn,  and  most  of  them  had  not  broken 
their  fast  since  the  preceding  day.  It  was  not  to  be 
expected  that  men  who  had  but  little  acquaintance 
with  the  ilist  duties  of  the  soldier  should  display  that 
equanimity  under  a  galling  inaction  which  is  the 
crowning  virtue  of  the  veteran.  Their  murmurs  be- 
came loud ;  and  Charles,  riding  through  the  ranks, 
followed  by  a  squire  carrying  his  silken  banner  of 
party  black  and  violet  half  unfurled,  strove  to  reani- 
mate their  drooping  spirit.  His  own  impatience,  how- 
ever, was  probably  as  great  as  theirs ;  and,  leaving 
Eavenstcin  with  a  small  force  to  guard  the  encamp- 
ment, he  ordered  Saint-Pol  to  lead,  and  the  other 
divisions  to  support,  the  attack. 

The  space  between  the  two  armies  was  a  vast  open 
field,  waving  with  heavy  crops  of  wheat  and  rye. 
The  passage  was  toilsome  ;  and  the  archers,  who  led 
the  van,  already  jaded  by  hunger,  thirst,  and  long 


■  M 
mi 


y  la 


(list  se  il  avoit  bailie  son  selle  aux  ainsi  estoit  il  accoustum^  de  parler." 

prinrps,  ...  A  quoy  Icdict  grant  se-  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  30, 

neschal  rcspondit  que  ouy ;  mais  qu'il  '^  "  Le  susdit  jour  seiziime,  il  fai- 

'eurdemourroit.et  que  le  corps  seroit  soit  hideusement  cl    'd."     Haynin, 

sien :  et  le  diet  en  gaudissant,  car  torn.  i.  p.  32. 
VOL.  I.                34 


-^ 


mi. 


,1  '.r. 


i:4.[ 


266 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


exposure  to  the  heat,**  staggered  fon^'ard  in  loose 
array.  They  had  been  directed  to  halt  twice  during 
the  march ;  but  this  was  not  permitted  by  the  impa- 
tient horsemen  pressing  on  the  rear.  Soon  a  cry 
arose  that  the  enemy  had  begun  to  fly.  In  fact,  the 
advanced  line  of  the  French  had  turned  and  gal- 
lopped  back  to  rejoin  the  main  corps.  Tlien  all 
notions  of  order  and  discipline  were  at  an  end. 
Each  man  thought  only  of  being  first  in  the  pursuit. 
The  dismounted  cavaliers  hastened  to  regain  their 
saddles;  and  the  whole  body  of  the  men-at-arms, 
putting  spurs  to  their  horses,  burst  through  the  line 
of  infantry,  trampling  down  and  scattering  the  help- 
less mass,  and  advanced,  not  with  the  steady  front  of 
martial  valor,  but  with  the  tumult  of  a  mob,  towards 
the  ascent.''^ 

The  royalists,  having  filed  through  the  openings 
in  the  hedge,  descended  to  meet  the  attack.  Having 
but  few  archers,  they  were  unable  to  receive  their 
assailants  with  the  usual  discharge  of  arrows.  It  was, 
therefore,  an  equal  match ;  and,  with  their  bristling 
spears  in  rest,  the  hostile  forces  rushed  together  amid 
a  blinding  cloud  of  dust.  The  clang  of  steel  along 
the  front  proclaimed  the  vigor  of  the  shock.  But,  as 
the  combat  thickened,  both  armies  were  broken  and 
spread  over  the  field  in  disordered  battle  or  still  more 
disordered  flight.  The  Burgundian  left  was  at  once 
severed  from  the  main  body  ;  and  Saint-Pol,  finding 

"  "Nos    gens  estants   en  cette        '•  Commines,  torn.  i.  pp.  38, 39. — 
longue  attente  se  debilitoientde  faim,    Haynin,  torn.  i.  pp.  34,  36. 
de  solf,  et  de  soleil."  Idem,tom.i.p.33. 


slaugh' 


37    (I 

et  de  se^ 

ny  ran^d 

'»De| 


CHAP,  v.] 


BATTLE  OF  MONTLH^Y. 


2C7 


himself  overmatched  and  in  danger  of  being  sur- 
rounded, retreated  to  the  forest,  where  he  remained 
inactive,  watching  the  distant  eddies  of  the  conflict, 
and  waiting  vainly  till  they  should  again  roll  together 
in  a  single  current.  The  pursuers,  meanwhile,  wheel- 
ing round  upon  their  left,  penetrated  the  encampment, 
slaughtered  or  dispersed  its  defenders,  and  captured 
the  artillery  —  a  prize,  however,  soon  abandoned  for 
the  plunder  of  the  wagons,  many  of  them  laden  with 
valuables  belonging  to  the  Flemish  nobles. 

In  the  centre,  the  count  of  Charolais  and  the 
scanty  force  that  still  encircled  his  standard  kept 
their  faces  toward  the  hill,  pressing  back  the  masses 
in  their  front,  and  staving  off  the  bands  of  fugi- 
tives that  drifted  past  their  flanks.  The  slain  were 
many ;  no  quarter  was  given ;  '^^  and  he  who  went 
down  beneath  the  thrust  of  the  lance  or  the  stroke 
of  the  battle-axe  had  little  chance  to  rise  again.  But 
those  who  fled  far  outnumbered  those  who  fell.  The 
men  of  highest  rank  were  among  the  first  to  escape. 
The  king  saw  himself  at  length  abandoned  by  all  save 
his  body-guard ;  and,  at  their  persuasion,  he  retreated 
up  the  mount,  and  took  shelter  in  the  castle  until 
the  storm  should  have  swept  by.^ 

Charles  had  now  a  clear  field ;  and,  with  slackened 
rein,  he  continued  the  pursuit  until  he  had  left 
Montlhery   half  a   league   behind.      With   a  mere 

"  "  Le  grand  courroux  du  comte  28.  —  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  171.  — 

et  de  ses  gens  n'usoit  de  nulle  pitic  Theodoricus  PauH.  De  Cladibus  Le- 

ny  ran^on."    HajTiin,  torn.  i.  p.  38.  odiensium,  D:   'l:  i,  Docs,  relatifs 

''  De  Troyes,  Lenglet,  torn.  ii.  p.  aux  troubles  du  pays  de  Liege,  p.  183. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


1.1 


11.25 


I^IM    |2.5 

■^  ^^^     HlflHi 

tti  M    12.2 

•u  I3A    inai 

Wtau 

U   116 


lliii^ 


Hictographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WBT  MAIN  STRKT 

WltSTIIt,N.Y.  MSM 

( 71* )  •72-4503 


'^ 


i 


268 


WAE  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


handful  of  followers  he  had  given  chase  in  one  direc- 
tion, while  the  greater  portion  of  his  army  had  fled 
in  the  opposite  direction.  His  impetuosity  would 
have  carried  him  into  the  midst  of  a  numerous  body 
of  the  French,  who  had  rallied  a  little  further  in  ad- 
vance, if  the  repeated  remonstrances  of  his  officers 
had  not  induced  him  to  stop.  Making  a  circuit,  he 
returned  on  the  other  side  of  the  hill,  still  putting  to 
flight  such  parties  of  the  enemy  as  crossed  his  path. 
As  he  passed  beneath  the  castle  he  was  surjirised  by 
the  appearance  of  the  royal  guard  drawn  up  in 
front  of  the  gate.  The  men-at-arms,  riding  down, 
charged  his  little  troop  with  irresistible  force.  His 
standard-bearer,  Philippe  d'Oignies,  Sire  de  Bruay,  and 
several  others,  were  slain  on  the  spot.  Charles  him- 
self received  a  deep  sword-thrust  in  his  neck,  where 
a  part  of  his  armor,  which  had  been  ill  secured,  had 
fallen  off.  He  was  recognized  by  the  French,  who 
called  upon  him  to  surrender ;  and,  though  he  con- 
tinued to  defend  himself  with  desperate  valor,  their 
grasp  was  already  upon  him  when  two  of  his  com- 
panions—  one  of  them  a  man  of  huge  frame,  and 
mounted  on  a  powerful  horse  —  pushed  in  between 
him  and  his  assailants,  and  gave  time  for  each  party 
to  reform  its  ranks.  A  strong  countercharge  again 
cleared  the  way;  and  the  French  retired  as  they 
perceived  a  small  body  of  troops  upon  the  plain 
advancing  to  the  rescue.  It  was  the  Bastard  of 
Burgundy,  with  the  meagre  remnant  of  the  right 
wing.  His  banner,  torn  to  ribands  but  still  firmly 
clinched,    showed  that  he  at  least  had  not  been 


CHAP,  v.] 


BATTLE  OF  MONTLHERY. 


269 


recreant  to  his  old  renown  and  the  honor  of  his 
house."''" 

Though  bleeding  profusely  from  his  wound,  the 
count  of  Charolais  mounted  a  fresh  horse,  and  rode 
about  the  field  to  collect  the  scattered  relics  of  his 
army.  In  mild  and  persuasive  language  he  appealed 
to  the  men  not  to  desert  him  in  his  hour  of  need,  but 
to  rally  round  the  standard  of  their  prince.*"  His  situ- 
ation was  indeed  a  critical  one.  Less  than  a  hundred 
men  remained  together  in  the  centre  of  the  plain ; 
and  those  who  had  displayed  conspicuous  courage  in 
the  thickest  of  the  fray  now  surveyed  with  appre- 
hension their  scanty  numbers  and  exposed  position, 
and  were  ready  to  take  flight  at  the  first  gleam  of 
a  hostile  spear. 

SaintrPol  and  his  men  were  at  length  seen  coming 
from  the  wood  in  close  array,  stopping  from  time  to 
time  to  pick  up  the  lances  which  they  had  thrown 
away  in  their  retreat.  They  paid  no  heed  to  the 
urgent  messages  which  were  sent  to  them  to  quicken 
their  march.  Having  proved  the  ill  effects  of  haste 
and  overweening  confidence,  they  now  displayed  the 
most  admirable  caution.  With  these  and  other  de- 
serters, who  returned  in  parties  of  a  dozen  or  twenty, 
Charles  found  himself,  towards  evening,  surrounded 
by  a  force  of  some  eight  hundred  men-at-arms. 


\  >-.  1 


"'  Commines,  torn.  J.  pp.  40-43. —  ceux  qu'il  trouvoit  qui  se  tiroient  au 

Haj-nin,  torn.  i.  pp.  37,  38.  —  La-  large :  •  Mes  enfans  et  mes  amys, 

mtu'chc,  torn.  ii.  p.  237.  —  Relation  retournez  avec  moi,  et  ne  me  laissez 

de  la  Bataille  de  Montlhdry,  Lenglet,  k  cette  heure,'  et  par  telle  douceur 

torn,  ii.  pp.  484-486.  en  fit  plusieurs  retoumer."  Haynin, 

*"  "  Allant  aval  le  camp  disoit  ii  torn.  i.  p.  40. 


:![ 


; 


H 

H 

m 

m 

1 

|^^^9n 

1 

ffPIH^U 

H 

270 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  t. 


But  their  temper  was  not  such  as  allowed  him  to 
renew  the  action.  Having  run  away,  they  supposed, 
naturally  enough,  that  they  had  been  defeated.  Their 
opponents,  reasoning  in  their  own  case  from  the  like 
premises,  had  reached  a  similar  conclusion.  It  had 
been  a  rout  on  both  sides  —  a  rout  without  a  pursuit, 
a  defeat  without  a  victory.  The  roads  were  thronged 
with  fugitives,  flying  from  those  who  had  gone  witli 
equal  precipitation  in  other  directions.**  As  they 
went  they  spread  reports  of  their  disasters :  the  king 
was  dead;  the  count  of  Charolais  was  a  prisoner. 
There  was  a  royalist  officer  who  never  drew  bridle 
till  he  reached  Lusignan,  m  Poitou ;  a  Flemish  cava- 
lier who  rode  with  the  same  hot  haste  to  his  own 
house  at  Quesnoy-le-Comte,  in  Hainault.  These  two, 
at  least,  it  was  remarked,  had  no  tliought  of  doing 
each  other  an  injury.*' 

The  evening  wore  away  without  any  effort,  on 
either  side,  to  bring  to  a  second  trial  the  doubtful 
issue  of  the  fight.  Confusion  and  panic  had  been 
succeeded  by  stupefaction.  Having  reformed  their 
enclosure  of  wagons,  and  thus  protected  themselves 
against  a  surprise,  the  Burgundians  found  courage  to 
bethink  themselves  of  the  vacant  condition  of  their 
stomachs.    Their  supply  of  provisions  was  insufficient 


*'  "Touts  les  chemins  estoient 
couverts  de  bagues,  comme  malles, 
bongcs,  voisselles,  joyaulx,  hamats, 
chevaulx,  qui  laisserent  cheoir  lea 
fuyants,  et  nuls  d'eulx  n'avoient  loi- 
slr  de  recoueiller  de  poeur  qu'ils 
avoient,  car  d'ung  costiS  et  d'aultre, 


il  sembloit  que  les  ennemys  fuissent 
a  leurs  tallons,  et  sy  ne  les  suivoit 
on  pas."  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  169. 
*'  "  Ces  deux  n'avoient  garde  de 
se  mordre  I'ung  I'aultre  "  —  an  ex- 
pression since  become  proverbial. 
Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  45. 


r  ^i 


CUAP.  v.] 


BATTLE  OF  MONTLH^aiY. 


271 


to  assuage  their  hunger ;  but  they  dared  not  enter 
the  village,  where  a  larger  quantity  might  have  been 
obtained ;  for  a  long  line  of  camp  fires  was  burning 
behind  the  hedge,  and  a  party  sent  out  to  reconnoi- 
tre returned  with  intelligence  that  the  royal  army 
was  still  in  position.  Seated  on  a  bundle  of  straw, 
close  by  a  heap  of  slain,  Charles  had  his  wound 
dressed,  and  shared  his  draft  of  tisane  with  a  disa- 
bled archer,  who  crawled  out  from  among  the  corpses. 
At  midnight  the  principal  officers  held  a  council  of 
war.  Many  of  them  —  Saint-Pol  among  the  number 
—  were  in  favor  of  commencing  their  retreat  without 
delay  towards  the  frontier  of  Burgundy  or  of  the 
Netherlands.  They  painted  in  colors  not  too  strong 
for  the  occasion  the  dangers  of  their  present  situa- 
tion. But  great  as  these  dangers  were,  those  that 
must  attend  a  retreat  were  still  more  appalling. 
Lvery  town  and  village  along  the  route  would  re- 
ceiv'e  them  as  enemies.  The  stragglers  would  be 
cut  oflf;  terror  would  multiply  their  perils  and  com- 
plete their  dispersion;  and  the  people  would  seize 
the  opportunity  to  give  a  convincing  proof  of  their 
loyalty  by  exterminating  the  beaten  rebels.  These 
arguments  —  which  foreshadowed  the  fate  of  those 
who  had  already  fled*' —  converted  even  the  timid 
to  the  opinion  of  the  more  courageous.  It  was  de- 
termined, as  the  safest  course,  to  renew  the  action  on 


*'  "  Pour  brief  dire,  oncques  nul  povres  compagnons  eschapperent . . . 

homme  ue  nom  de  ceulx  qui  s'en-  touts  deschirds  et  en  povres  habits." 

ffuyoient,   n'eschapperent  qu'ils   ne  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  174. 
fuissent  prins  ou  morts  ; . . .  aulcuna 


272 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


the  following  day,  in  the  spirit  of  men  who  had  no 
means  of  retreat,  and  who  must  conquer  or  die  upon 
the  field .« 

At  daybreak  the  trumpets  sounded  the  reveille. 
The  troops  prepared  for  battle,  though  the  greater 
part  looked  more  inclined  for  flight.  What  was  their 
surprise  \yucn  a  carter,  bringing  a  cask  of  wine  from 
the  village,  announced  to  them  that  the  enemy  had 
departed !  The  grateful  tidings  were  speedily  con- 
firmed. The  fires  which  they  had  watched  all  night 
without  daring  to  approach  were  no  sooner  lighted 
than  the  king  had  stolen  off  and  continued  his  march, 
by  a  circuitous  route,  towards  Paris.  In  the  Burgun- 
dian  army  despondency  now  gave  place  to  exulta- 
tion. Its  position  was  not  merely  a  safe,  ))ut  a 
glorious  one.  Far  from  having  been  defeated,  it  had 
actually  gained  the  day :  it  had  kept  the  field,  which 
the  enemy  had  quitted.  That  the  victory  was  at 
the  best  a  barren  one  —  that,  if  not  the  battle,  yet 
the  object  of  the  battle  had  been  lost  —  was  a  matter 
not  taken  into  consideration.  There  was  some  talk 
indeed  of  giving  chase ;  and  those  who  in  the  night 
had  been  the  strenuous  advocates  of  retreat  were 
now  the  most  urgent  in  favor  of  pursuit.  But  'they 
were  reminded  that,  to  secure  the  honors  of  the 
victory,  the  rules  of  chivalry  obliged  them  to  spend 
still    another   day   upon   the   field,  to   bury   their 


**  "  Son  advis  estoit  que  chascun  falloit  Ih  vivre  ou  mourir :  et  trou- 

8e  aysast  au  mieulx  qu'il  pourroit  voit  ce  chemin  plus   seur  que  de 

ceste  nuict,  et  que  le  matin,  h  I'aube  prendre  la  fajte."    Commiues,  torn, 

du  jour,  on  assaillist  le  Roy,  et  qu'il  i.  p.  48. 


CHAP.  T.] 


BATTLE  OF  MONTLHERY. 


273 


slain,  and  to  proclaim  defiance  with  sound  of  trumpet 
to  all  who  should  desire  to  dispute  their  claims.** 

More  than  two  thousand  dead  bodies  —  already 
rifled  and  stripped  by  the  courageous  and  industrious 
camp-followers  —  were  found  strewn  over  the  plain 
and  on  the  slopes  of  the  hill.*'       Breze  had  fallen  in 


*'  Accounts  —  most  of  them  by 
eye-witnesses  —  of  the  battle  of 
Montlhery  may  be  found  in  Haynin, 
torn.  ii.  pp.  28—12  ;  Commines,  torn. 
i.  pp.  33-50 ;  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  pp. 
166-172 ;  Lamarche,  tom.  ii.  pp. 
236-240;  De  Troyes,  pp.  27-29; 
Basin,  tom.  ii.  pp.  118-121;  Rela- 
tion de  la  Rataille,  (the  official  report 
to  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  agreeing 
sufficiently  with  other  narrations,  ex- 
cci)t  that  a  lame  attempt  is  made  to 
excuse  the  disorders  and  desertions 
that  had  tarnished  the  triumph  of 
the  Burgundian  arms.)  Lenglet, 
tom.  ii.  pp.  484-486. 

The  descriptions  given  by  the  two 
first  named  authorities  might  seem, 
at  a  cursor}'  glance,  to  be  intended 
for  two  totally  different  transactions. 
A  closer  examination  will  show  that 
there  is  scarcely  any  discrepancy  in 
matters  of  fact.  ITie  difference  is  in 
t!ie  coloring  —  in  the  spirit  in  which 
the  narratives  were  written.  Hay- 
nin, a  sturdy  cavalier,  not  much  ad- 
dicted to  comments  or  criticisms, 
Rives  a  literal  version  of  the  affair, 
and  sums  up  liis  account  by  award- 
ing, on  the  grounds  noticed  in  the 
text,  "  the  honor  and  victory  of  the 
day  "  to  the  Burgundians,  although 
the  French  had  "  gained  the  most " 
by  their  capture  of  the  baggage. 
Commines,  writing  in  the  decline  of 
life,  and  with  more  delight  in  expos- 
VOL.  I.  35 


ing  the  follies  and  empty  pretensions 
of  his  martial  contemporaries  than 
in  celebrating  their  achievements, 
takes  his  revenge  on  the  youthful 
enthusiasm  that  had  kept  him 
throughout  the  day  close  behind  his 
master  —  feeling,  he  tells  us,  as  little 
fear  as  he  ever  felt  in  his  life,  and 
only  astonished  that  any  one  should 
dare  to  oppose  so  great  a  prince  — 
by  throwing  a  slight  shade  of  ridi- 
cule over  all  the  events,  bestowing 
plentiful  sarcasms  on  those  who  fled 
and  equivocal  commendations  on 
those  who  fought.  His  introduc- 
tion of  trivial  details  —  how,  for 
example,  his  horse,  an  extremely 
old  and  feeble  quadruped,  thrust  his 
sagacious  nose  into  a  pail  of  wine, 
and  was  wonderfully  refreshed  by 
the  draught  —  is  apparently  intend- 
ed for  effect.  "  Admire,"  he  seems 
to  say,  "  the  sang-froid  of  this  four- 
footed  veteran,  who  had  borne  him- 
self so  gallantly  in  the  melee,  but 
did  not  trouble  himself  about  the 
glory,  or  pique  himself  on  his  ex- 
ploits, like  a  certain  young  prince, 
or  like  many  bold  cavaliers  who  re- 
turned, after  a  discreet  flight,  to 
claim  a  share  in  the  victo.y !  '• 

**  "  Deux  mil  hommes  du  moins," 
says  Commines,  who  never  exagger- 
ates. Other  writers  say  four  thou- 
sand ;  De  Troyes,  who  alone  pretends 
to  accuracy,  says  thirty-six  hundred. 


274 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I, 


i 


'I  I 


the  first  charge,  while  leading  the  French  attack, 
with  the  purpose,  as  Louis  persisted  in  asserting,  of 
forcing  a  battle  which  the  king  was  desirous  to  avoid. 
On  the  Burgundian  side  no  one  was  more  lamented 
than  the  youthful  Philippe  de  Lalain,  a  brother  of 
the  famous  Jacques  de  Lalain,  sprung  from  a  race 
that  never  grudged  its  blood  in  the  service  of  its 
prince.*'' 

Having  remained  the  usual  time  upon  the  field, 
and  received  no  answer  to  the  challenge  thrice  de- 
livered by  his  heralds,  the  count  of  Charolais  quitted 
Montlhery  on  the  18th,  and  set  out  in  search  of  his 
allies.  At  Etampes  he  was  joined  bv  '  «?  Bretons, 
and,  a  few  days  later,  by  the  duke  oi  '  u-bon  and 
the  Armagnacs.  Proceedir<^  eastward  to  Moret,  the 
united  forces  encamped  upon  the  Jjorders  of  the 
Seine,  and  waited  a  fortnight  longer  for  the  arrival 
of  the  duke  of  Calabria  and  the  marshal  of  Burgundy. 
As  soon  as  the  distant  camp-fires  to  the  southward 
announced  their  approach  Charles  commenced  throw- 
ing a  bridge  of  boats  across  the  river  at  a  spot  where 
a  small  island,  dividing  the  stream,  facilitated  this 
operation.  Rouault,  who  was  stationed  on  the  oppo- 
site bank  with  a  considerable  force,  made  a  show 
of  disputing  the  passage,  but  gave  way  under  the 


*">  "Une  rasse,"  remarks  Com- 
mmes,  (torn,  i,  p.  19,)  "dent  peu 
s'en  est  trouve  qui  n'ayent  este  vail- 
lans  et  couraigeux,  et  presque  tous 
mors  en  servant  leurs  seigneurs  en 
la  guerre."  Another  of  the  family 
perished  in  the  same  campaign, — 
Simon  de  Lalain, — of  whom  a  chron- 


icler says, "  II  estoit  encore  jeusne, 
si  avoit-il  beaucop  veu,  et  beaucop 
voyagd,  si  comme  au  Sainct-Sdpul- 
chre,  k  Sainct-Jacques  [de  Compo- 
stella]  h  Rome,  os  Allsmaignes,  et 
au  voyage  de  Turquie."  Haynin, 
torn.  L  p.  46. 


CHAP,  v.]       COMPOSITION  OF  THE  ALLIED  FORCES. 


275 


lire  of  the  artillery,  ably  directed  by  a  royal  officer 
who  had  been  taken  prisoner  at  Montlhery,  and  who 
had  ea.sily  been  induced  to  receive  the  pay  of  the 
confederates,  and  to  exert  in  their  behalf  the  skill 
."O  recently  employed  for  their  destruction. 

The  difficulty  of  procuring  the  large  supplies 
necessary  for  the  forces  that  were  now  assembled 
occasioned  a  long  delay  before  the  allies  could  agahi 
commence  their  march  towards  the  capital.  It  was 
there,  as  all  perceived,  that  the  struggle  must  be 
decided.  If  Paris  should  surrender,  no  further  resist- 
ance to  the  revolution  was  to  be  dreaded  in  any  part 
of  the  kingdom;  and  even  if  it  should  hold  out, 
Louis,  shut  up  within  its  walls,  and  thus  deprived  of 
the  means  of  carrying  on  the  war,  must  soon  submit 
to  the  terms  which  his  enemies  intended  to  impose. 
That  their  power  was  adequate  to  the  accomplish- 
ment of  their  purpose  seemed  scarcely  to  admit  of 
doubt.  The  army  was  reckoned  at  over  fifty  thou- 
«md  combatants.^*  The  feudal  levies  of  more  than 
twenty  provinces,  never  before  marshalled  against  a 
eonunon  enemy,  were  now  arrayed  against  the  com- 
mon sovereign.  Nor  was  it  from  the  provinces  of 
France  alone  that  this  motley  host  had  been  col- 
lected. The  duke  of  Calabria,  in  addition  to  his 
lather's   vassals,  had    enrolled   under   his  standard 


■i' 


^'  According  to  Commines,  indeed,  tributed :  under  the  count  of  Charo- 

tlie  estimate  amounted  to  a  hundred  lais,  95,000  ;  the  duke  of  Brittany, 

thousand  — "  tant  bona  que  mau-  12,000;    the  count  of  Annagnac, 

vais."    A  chronicle  cited  by  Petitot  6000 ;  the  duke  of  Calabria,  6000 ; 

gives  as  the  total  of  the  effective  the  duke  of  Bourbon,  3000. 
force  fifty-one  thousand,  thus  dis- 


276 


W;Jl  OP  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


mercenaries  from  several  different  nations.  His  friend 
the  Count  Palatine  had  supplied  him  with  a  troop  of 
achivartzreitcrs,  or  mounted  arquebusiers.  A  body  of 
Italian  horse,  commanded  by  Nicholas  de  Montfort, 
count  of  Campobasso,  one  of  the  most  dinting iiished 
cmdoiltcn  o£  the  time,  —  whose  history  will  be  found 
fatally  and  darkly  interwoven  with  the  final  scenes 
of  our  narrative,  —  attracted  especial  admiration  by 
the  beauty  of  their  arms  and  the  practised  ease  with 
which  they  executed  every  manoeuvre.  In  striking 
contrast  with  this  phalanx  of  steel-clad  riders  was  a 
little  company  of  infantry,  —  "a  kind  of  shnple  peo- 
ple," —  wearing  no  defensive  armor  except  a  narrow 
plate  of  iron  strapped  across  the  breast.  Their  weap- 
ons were  a  pike  of  enormous  length,  and  a  knife  to 
be  used  in  closer  combat.*"  They  AVt?re  Swiss ;  and, 
as  this  was  the  first  occasion  on  which  soldiers  of 
that  nation  had  been  seen  in  France,  —  where,  how- 
ever, the  fame  of  their  martial  valor  was  not  unknown, 
—  they  attracted  much  curious  attention  from  the 
other  troops.  The  Flemish  and  Burgundian  cavaliers 
would  probably  have  observed  them  with  still  more 
scrutinizing  glances,  had  they  foreseen  the  period  — 
not  many  years  distant  —  when  the  hardy  Alpine 
warriors  and  themselves  would  be  pitted  against 
each  other  in  a  contest  far  sterner  and  deadlier  than 
that  in  which  they  were  now  engaged  upon  the 
same  side. 

No  attempt  was  made  to  organize  these  forces, 

**  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  181. — Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  44.  —  Commines, 
torn.  L  p.  62. 


CBA7.  v.]  LEADERS  OF  THE  ALLIEO  FORCES. 


277 


exhibiting  so  great  a  diversity  in  their  composition 
and  appearance,  into  a  single  army.  Such  an  attempt 
would  have  required,  as  its  necessary  condition,  unity 
in  the  command ;  and  this  it  would  have  been  im- 
possible to  secure.  The  duke  of  Berri,  whose  rank 
might  otherwise  have  entitled  him  to  exercise  the 
authority  of  a  commander-in-chief,  was  as  little  fitted 
for  the  post  by  his  character  as  by  his  age.  The 
poor  youth,  when  he  found  the  members  of  his  fam- 
ily and  the  nobility  of  France  so  ready  to  redress 
his  fancied  wrongs,  trembled  at  the  responsibility 
which  had  been  thrust  upon  him.  On  beholding  the 
wounded  Burgundians  who  had  been  conveyed  in 
the  wagons  from  Montlh^ry,  he  expressed  his  com- 
passion in  terms  attributed  to  faintheartedness  by 
persons  of  less  sensitive  nature.  "  I  had  rather,"  he 
(<aid,  "that  this  enterprise  had  never  been  com- 
menced than  see  blood  thus  shed  on  my  account.'"*" 
Turning  to  the  count  of  Charolais,  "You  too,  fair 
cousin,"  he  said,  "  have  received  a  hurt."  "  The  for- 
tune of  war!"  replied  Charles,  who  could  scarcely 
repress  his  coxitempt  at  these  unseasonable  observa- 
tions.*^ "  What  sort  of  a  man  must  this  be,"  he 
remarked  to  some  of  his  intimates,  "  who  is  dismayed 
at  the  sight  of  a  fev  hundred  wounded  men  —  peo- 
ple that  do  not  belong  to  him,  and  whom  he  does 
not  even  know !  When  the  case  touches  him  more 
nearly,  we  shall  have  little  reason  to  rely  upon  him, 
I  ween."**'^    Throughout  the  army,  indeed,  the  eflfem- 


'"  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  66. 
'''  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  7.79. 


**  "  Avez  V0U8   ouy  parler  cest 
homme  ?    U  se  txouve  esbahy  pour 


278 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBIJC  WEAL. 


[■oo»  I. 


I 

lit- 
1'' 


inacy  of  the  young  prince  and  of  Ihh  friend  the  duku 
of  Brittany  was  a  common  subject  of  derision.  Tliey 
rode  together  in  tlie  centre,  on  ambling  palfreys,  in 
a  guise  that  ill  accorded  with  the  pomp  and  circum- 
stance of  war.  Their  outer  vests,  of  rich  satin,  were 
studded  with  gilt  nails ;  but  these,  it  was  whispered, 
were  mere  heads  without  points,  not  the  fastenings 
of  breastplate  or  brigand ine  beneath.*^ 

In  John  of  Calabria,  on  the  other  hand,  the  count 
of  Charolais  recognized  a  spirit  like  his  own  —  the 
same  eagerness  for  action,  the  same  desire  of  re- 
nown, the  same  promptness  and  assiduity  in  the 
performance  of  every  duty,  in  enforcing  discipline 
among  the  soldiers,  and  in  setting  before  them  on 
all  occasions  an  example  of  vigilance  and  of  valor. 
Their  friendship  led  them  to  contimie  in  company 
when  the  combined  forces,  having  crossed  the  Marne, 
at  Charenton,  August  20,  dispersed  to  their  different 
posts  in  the  vicinity  of  the  capital.  The  Bretons 
occupied  the  ground  about  Saint-Maur  and  the  Wood 
of  Vincennes.  The  Gascons  were  stationed  at  Saint- 
Denis.  The  Burgundians  remained  at  Charenton  — 
their  commander  taking  up  his  quarters  at  Conflans, 
in  a  large  seignorial  mansion  standing  close  upon 
the  margin  of  the  river.'* 


Kept  ou  huict  cens  homines  qu'il  voit 
blccez  allans  par  la  ville,  qui  ne  luy 
8ont  riens,  ct  qu'il  ne  congnoist :  il 
s'esbahyroit  bientost  si  le  cas  luy 
touchoit  de  quelque  chose."  Corn- 
mines,  torn.  i.  p.  56. 

**  Idem,  torn.  i.  p.  64.  —  HajTiin, 
torn.  L  p.  43. 


'*  Commines,  torn.  i.  pp.  63, 64.  — 
Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  pp.  182,  183.— 
Ancienne  Chronique,  Lenglet,  torn, 
ii.  p.  184.  —  Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  45.  — 
Lamarche,  torn.  ii.  pp.  244,  245. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

WAR  OP  THE   PUBLIC   WEAL.  -  BLOCKADE   OF   PARIS.  —  TREATY 

or  CONFLAJKS. 

1465. 

The  king  had  reached  Paris  on  the  evening  of 
July  18,  the  second  day  after  the  battle.  He  supped 
with  the  military  governor,  Messire  Charles  de  Melim, 
and  described  the  encounter  and  his  own  perils  in 
so  moving  imd  eloquent  a  strain  that  the  company — 
nobles,  ladies,  burgesses  —  were  melted  to  tears.* 

In  the  course  of  a  few  days  the  count  of  Maine, 
—  still  intent  on  serving  the  wilful  monarch  in  his 
own  despite,  and  healing  the  unhappy  breach  in  the 
royal  family,  —  Montauban,  admiral  of  France,  and 
other  distinguished  fugitives  from  Montlhery,  found 
their  way  into  the  capital,  where  they  met  with  a 
most  gracious  reception.  Not  a  word  of  reproach 
from  Louis,  whose  temper  was  always  smoothest  in 


I 


"  Et  en  ce  faieant  dist  et  declara    largement." 
de  moult  beaux  mots  et  piteux,  de    torn.  ii.  29. 
quoy  tous  et  toutes  plorerent  bien 


De  Troyes,  Lenglet, 


(.m) 


J 


» ( 


280 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  ^VEAL. 


[book  I. 


the  most  trymg  situations,  in  the  flood  tide  of  ad- 
versity, when  his  friends  had  fallen  ofi*,  and  he  must 
swim  or  sink  alone.  Then  he  reined  in  his  splenetic 
humors ;  impatience  gave  place  to  prudence,  sarcasm 
to  pathos.  On  the  present  occasion  there  was  more 
than  one  individual  whose  conduct,  had  not  the  king 
been  all  serenity  and  mildness,  might  have  drawn 
from  him  censure  or  complaint.  On  the  morning  of 
the  16  th,  finding  himself  unexpectedly  in  presence 
of  the  enemy,  he  had  despatched  "three  heralds"  to 
Paris  demanding  instant  succors.  The  field  was  only 
five  leagues  distant ;  it  would  have  been  easy  to  send 
out  a  party,  which,  falling  at  the  proper  moment  on 
the  enemy's  rear,  would  have  changed  his  dubious 
success  into  utter  annihilation.  The  messengers  went 
through  the  streets,  with  trumpeters  before  them, 
proclaiming  the  urgent  necessities  of  the  sovereign, 
but  not  a  soul  stirred.'*  A  specific  demand  for  a 
reenforcement  of  two  hundred  lances,  under  Rouault, 
was  disregarded  by  Melun.'  Later  in  the  day,  how- 
ever, when  the  flying  parties  of  Burgundians  were 
seen  from  the  walls,  the  garrison  and  citizens  sallied 
forth  to  the  number  of  thirty  thousand,  destroyed 
the  detachment  at  Saint-Cloud,  slew  some  hundreds 
of  the  runaways,  captured  several  prisoners  of  rank, 


*  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  173. 

'  "  II  est  accuse  d'avoir  .  .  .  em- 
pesche  le  Marescha'  Rouault  de  sor- 
tir  de  Paris,  quoique  le  Roy  luy  eust 
escrit  que  le  leudemain  il  donneroit 
bataille  au  comte  de  Charolais,  et 


qu'il  vinst  avec  deux  cens  lances, 
pour  prendre  I'ennemy  par  derriere, 
ce  qui  auroit  assurd  une  victoire 
complete."  Extrait  du  Proccs  Cri- 
minel  de  Charles  de  Melun,  Lenglet, 
torn.  iiL  p.  14. 


CHAP.  VI.] 


PROCEEDINGS  IN  THE  CAPITAL. 


281 


and  returned  with  booty  valued  at  two  hundred 
thousand  crowns.* 

For  these  services,  and  for  the  loyal  answers  pre- 
viously given  to  the  summons  of  tlie  count  of  Cha- 
rolais,  Louis  now  overflowed  with  gratitude.  He 
would  rather,  he  declared,  have  lost  the  half  of  his 
kingdom  than  have  seen  his  fair  city  of  Paris  entered 
and  plundered  by  the  enemy.  His  singular  affection 
for  so  faithful  a  people  induced  him  to  issue  an  edict 
abolishing  the  more  odious  imposts,  reducing  others, 
granting  new  privileges,  confirming  such  as  had  for- 
merly been  called  in  question.^ 

But  the  most  conspicuous  traits  in  the  present  de- 
meanor of  a  monarch  charged  by  his  enemies  with 
perverseness  and  self  will  were  his  gracious  recep- 
tion of,  and  readiness  to  profit  by,  whatever  sugges- 
tions or  proposals  were  offered  by  his  subjects  in  the 
capital  He  had  long  since  protested  his  wilhngness 
to  make  all  possible  concessions  for  the  sake  of 
peace.  But  the  princes  had  given  him  no  opportu- 
nity to  reveal  his  conciliatory  intentions.  Instead 
of  presenting  their  remonstrances,  they  had  formed 
a  secret  league,  and  rushed  abruptly  into  war."  This 
perfidious  and  violent  procedure  will  not  be  imitated 
in  Paris.  He  is  waited  upon  by  a  deputation  from 
the  municipality,  the  Parhament,  and  the  University, 
headed  by  the  bishop,  —  a  brother  of  the  chronicler 

*  De  Troyes,  p.  27.  faire  des  biens  k  son  Ville  de  Paris 

'  "  Qu'il  aimeroit  mieux  avoir  per-  et  aux  habitans  d'icelle,  remit,"  &c. 

du  la  moid^  de  son  Iloyaume  que  Idem,  pp.  27,  31. 

mal  ne  inconvenient  vcnist  en  ladite        *  Lenglet,  torn.  iL  pp.  449,  4fi0, 

Ville. .  . .  Ayant  singulier  desir  de  et  al. 
VOL.  i.                    36 


i 


ift    la 


I  f 


I  ; 


282 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


and  poet,  Alain  Chartier,  —  who  sets  forth  their  peti- 
tion in  "  very  beautiful  language,"  all  the  well-turned 
phrases  circling  round  the  same  central  point.  The 
king  is  eloquently  besought  to  allow  himself  hence- 
forth to  be  guided  in  the  conduct  of  his  affairs  by 
"good  advice.'"'  Louis  gives  a  cheerful  assent;  he 
will  take  for  his  advisers  the  petitioners  themselves ; 
he  will  enlarge  his  ordinary  council  by  the  addition 
of  six  burgesses,  six  councillors  of  the  Parliament, 
and  six  clerks  of  the  University.  Thus  easily  and 
smoothly  is  this  highly  important  matter  arranged. 

The  king,  in  his  turn,  prefers  a  small  request — 
that  the  citizens  will  arm  and  enroll  themselves  as  a 
militia  for  the  defence  of  their  own  property  and 
families.  An  ordinance  to  this  effect  is  duly  promul- 
gated. But  it  remains  a  dead  letter.  Paris  is  at  this 
moment  rejoicing  over  the  abolition  of  the  taxes; 
bonfires  are  blazing;  the  people  flock  through  the 
streets,  shouting  "  JVbel!"^  It  were  cruel,  at  such  a 
time,  to  insist  upon  their  performing  military  service. 

Yet  something  must  be  done.  Rejoicings  and 
bonfires  will  not  keep  out  the  enemy ;  the  resources 
of  the  government  are  nowise  increased  by  the  re- 
duction of  the  taxes.  The  only  quarter  from  which 
succors  can  now  be  looked  for  is  Normandy.  That 
great  province  is  near  at  hand ;  and  it  is  under  the 
direct  control  of  the  crown,  to  which  it  of  course 

''  "  Moult  belles  paroles,  qui  toutes  tout  le  populoire  crioient  de  joye  et 

tcndoient  afin  que  le  Hoy  conduisit  de  bon  vouloir,  Noel,  Noel.    Et  en 

de  Ik  en  avant  tciutes  ses  affaires  furent  faits  les  feux  parmy  les  rues 

par  bon  conseil."   De  Troyes,  p.  29.  de  ladite  Ville."    Idem,  p.  31. 

•    "  Incontinent  apres  ledit  cry 


CHAP.  VI.]        NECESSITY  OF  OBTAINING  SUCCORS. 


283 


reverted  after  its  conquest  from  the  English.  There 
is  now  no  "  duke  of  Normandy,"  able  and  ready  to 
answer  with  a  bold  defiance  the  requisition  to  com- 
ply with  his  feudal  obligations  by  coming  with  ban 
and  arriere-ban  to  his  sovereign's  relief  On  the 
other  hand,  there  is  no  person  in  the  province  whose 
authority  and  influence  are  such  as  can  be  relied 
upon  to  give  effect  to  the  royal  orders  for  raising  the 
necessary  levies.  Brez^,  who  was  both  loved  and 
feared  by  the  inhabitants,®  lies  among  the  slain  at 
Montlh^ry;  and  his  widow  administers  the  govern- 
ment in  the  name  of  her  son,  the  hereditary  sene- 
schal.  Thanks  to  the  loyal  zeal  of  the  count  of  Eu, 
whose  estates  lie  in  Normandy,  the  free  archers,  or 
civic  militia,  are  already  armed  and  equipped.  But 
the  nobles  will  not  move  until  Louis  calls  them  to 
the  fiield  in  person.  He  is  in  great  perplexity.  He 
cannot  rely  upon  the  fidelity  of  the  capital  unless  he 
remains  in  it;  he  cannot  obtain  the  means  for  its 
defence  unless  he  quits  it.  Luckily  the  enemy  seems 
in  no  haste  to  approach,  retarded  by  the  want  of 
supplies  and  still  more  by  the  want  of  union  and 
of  a  single  directing  head.  There  may  still  be  time 
before  the  city  is  invested  to  bring  up  the  Norman 
levies.  <' 


"il 


'  "  Est  foit  ame  et  crnint  de  Nor- 
mancHc,"  says  the  English  agent, 
Neville,  Preuves  de  Commines,  (ed. 
Dupont,)  torn.  iii.  p.  214.  Even 
Louis,  at  this  crisis,  could  not  but 
acknowledge  the  loss  he  had  sus- 
tained in  this  able  and  experienced 


politician.  "  Dit  .  .  .  qu'fl  aToit 
beaucoup  perdu  au  grand  seneschal 
de  Normandie."  Procbs  de  Charles 
de  Melun,  Lenglet,  torn.  iii.  p.  IS. 
—  "  Fust  moidt  plaint  pour  le  bien 
et  valliance  de  lui,"  says  Duclercq, 
torn.  iv.  p.  175. 


\  t 


hi 


i 


284 


WAB  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


Yet  the  king  is  loath  to  go,  —  "right  loath,"  as 
Shylock  to  leave  his  daughter  and  his  money-bags 
while  maskers  are  abroad,  albeit  he  has  given  or- 
ders that  his  "house's  ears"  be  stopped.  He  fears 
that,  when  his  back  is  turned,  Jessica  will  "  clamber 
up  to  the  casements;"  that  the  prowler's  lingering 
steps  will  be  quickened  by  beckonings  and  signals 
from  within.  He  sets  out,  indeed,  on  Saturday, 
August  10,  taking  with  him  the  count  of  Maine, 
whose  mediatorial  propensities  are  thus  debarred  the 
opportunity  for  exercise.  But  the  same  day  he  sends 
word  back  to  the  municipal  authorities,  assembled 
in  "grand  council"  at  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  that  he  has 
changed  his  mind,  and  will  return  again  on  Tuesday. 
He  sends  also  directions  for  quartering  and  billeting 
the  Norman  archers  as  fast  as  thev  arrive.  On  the 
13th  he  sends  the  count  of  Eu  to  take  command  as  his 
lieutenant  in  place  of  Melun,  whom  he  compuiisatcs, 
hov/ever,  for  this  removal,  by  appointing  him  to  a 
higher  post,  that  of  grand-master  ol  the  househo;*^ ; 
from  which,  three  years  hence,  in  reward  for  his  ser- 
vices at  this  same  period,  he  will  elevate  him  to  the 
scaffold.^"  On  Tuesday  the  king  returns^,  but  stays 
only  long  enough  to  see  that  all  is  quiet  and  appar- 
ently secure,  and  to  witness  an  exhibition  intended 


'"  Melun  was  condemned  and  ex- 
ecuted on  a  charge  of  having  main- 
tained a  treasonable  correspondence 
with  the  confederates,  of  which  his 
own  confession,  amounting  to  little 
and  extorted  by  torture,  seems  to 
have  been  the  chief  evidence  ad- 
duced.    There   is   stronger  proof 


that  he  had  endeavored  to  gain  an 
undue  personal  influence  with  the 
populace  of  Paris  —  a  circumstance 
which  justiiied  the  king's  suspicions 
and  explains  the  vindictive  feeling 
80  long  and  secretly  cherished.  See 
Doc.  Indd.,  Melanges,  torn.  n.  pp. 
371-374. 


CHAP.  VI.] 


PAEIS  IN  THE  KING'S  ABSENCE. 


285 


for  the  amusement,  perhaps  also  for  the  edification, 
of  the  people.  A  varlet  who  made  himself  conspic- 
uous in  raising  the  fulse  alarm  at  the  time  of  the 
first  arrival  of  the  Burgundians  is  whipped  at  the 
cart's  tail  by  the  common  hangman.  The  king,  in 
a  loud  voice,  admonishes  that  functionary  to  lay  on 
well,  for  the  punishment  is  richly  deserved."  Having 
given  this  gentle  hint  to  such  as  are  timorously  dis- 
posed, he  at  last  sets  forth  upon  his  mission.^^ 

The  sharp  eyes  of  her  suspicious  guardian  with- 
drawn from  her,  Paris  breathes  more  freely,  and 
ventures  to  take  a  glance  at  the  approaching  confed- 
erates, the  enemies  of  the  king's  domestic  peace. 
They  are  still  far  distant,  having  just  completed 
their  preparations  and  turned  their  faces  towards  the 
capital.  But  already  (August  17)  "many  notable 
persons,  of  different  professions,"  wait  upon  the  king's 
lieutenant,  and  represent  the  propriety  of  his  endeav- 
oring "  to  make  some  good  arrangement  of  peace 
and  agreement  with  the  princes,  which  shall  tend  to 
the  honor  of  the  -sovereign  and  the  consolation  and 
profit  of  the  realm."  Two  days  later  the  allies  are 
close  at  hand ;  and  the  wealthier  citizens,  who  have 
their  gardens  and  vineyards  in  the  suburbs,  see  with 
dismay  the  troops  beginning  to  occupy  these  pleas- 
ant summer  quarters.  Heralds  arrive  bearing  letters 
from  the  duke  of  Berri,  who  styles  himself  regent,  ad- 
dressed to  the  clergy,  the  municipality,  the  University 

""  Le  Roy  crioit  k  haute  voix  au    desservy."     De    Troyes,    Lenglet, 
bourreau,  batez  fort  et  n'espargnez    torn.  ii.  p.  33. 
point  ce  paillard,  car  il  a  bien  pis        '*  Idem,  pp.  32,  33. 


1':'      41 


1' 

ml 


■ 


i 


286 


WAB  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[boo«  I. 


and  the  Parliament,  wherein  he  requests  that  a  dep- 
utation may  be  sent  to  him  from  each  of  these  bodies, 
to  whom  he  will  make  known  the  reasons  why 
he  and  the  members  of  his  family  have  assembled 
in  arms,  and  will  satisfy  them  that  it  is  for  no  other 
object  than  the  "universal  good  of  the  kingdom 
of  France."  Compliance  with  so  fair  a  request  is 
demanded  by  simple  coiu'tesy ;  and  accordingly  a 
selection  is  made  of  thirteen  persons,  —  magistrates, 
doctors  in  theology,  advocates,  and  others,  —  "the 
reverend  father  in  God  the  before  named  Guillaume 
Chartier,  bishop  of  the  diocese,  having  charge  to  con- 
duct them  to  the  place  of  conference,  and  to  direct 
their  proceedings."  '^ 

It  is  at  the  Chateau  de  Beauts  that  the  king's 
brother  has  taken  up  his  residence.  Here  he  receives 
the  delegation,  seated  in  state,  while  round  him  stand 
the  other  "  seigneurs  of  the  blood  of  France,"  among 
whom  the  victor  of  Montlhery  is  conspicuous,  attired, 
unlike  the  rest,  in  the  complete  panoply  of  war. 
Dunois  is  chosen  as  the  orator  to  explain  the  mo- 
tives and  the  purposes  of  the  allies.  He  inveighs  in 
general  terms  against  the  tyranny  of  Louis,  urges 
the  necessity  of  a  reform  in  the  government,  hints 
at  an  assembly  of  the  Three  Estates  as  the  proper 
body  to  devise  efficacious  remedies,  and  finally,  adoptr 
ing  a  blunter  and  more  characteristic  tone,  demands 
the  admission  of  the  confederates  into  the  capital 
within  two  days,  threatening  a  general  assault  if  the 
demand  be  not  complied  v^itn.    The  bishop  rephes 

'5  Idem,  pp.  34,  36. 


CHAP.  TI.] 


PABIS  IN  TlIE  KING'S  ABSENCE. 


287 


in  his  usual  mild  and  elegant  phraseology,  evading  a 
direct  answer  until  he  and  his  colleagues  shall  have 
rendered  their  report  and  received  further  instruc- 
tions. When  the  conference  closes,  each  of  the  dep- 
uties finds  himself  engaged  in  private  conversation 
by  one  or  other  of  the  princes,  and  is  made  acquainted 
with  some  particular  reasons  for  exerting  his  influence 
in  favor  of  the  concessions  demanded  by  the  allies.'* 
In  truth,  the  classes  which  these  men  represent  are 
secretly  not  ill  disposed  to  such  a  step.  The  clergy 
and  the  University  have  their  own  grounds  of  hostil- 
ity to  Louis.  The  lawyers,  the  wealthier  tradesmen, 
all  those  persons  who  from  vanity  or  the  prospect  of 
gain  are  the  natural  dependants  of  an  aristocracy, 
have  a  strong  desire  to  see  the  great  hotels  again 
occupied  each  with  its  little  court,  crowded  with  suit- 
ors, resplendent  with  hospitality,  s  lettering  favors 
and  the  gold  of  the  provinces,  and  diaming  the  king 
into  a  style  of  living  befitting  his  exalted  dignity. 
Each  of  the  princes  has  his  own  agents,  his  own 
adherents,  the  hereditary  clients  of  his  house.  The 
Burgundian  party  is  especially  numerous,  animated 
by  traditional  sympathies  and  by  recollecti  3ns  of 
the  Good  Duke  Philip  and  of  the  magnifies  nt  fetes 
of  the  Hotel  d'Artois.  There  is  even  a  sentimental 
attachment  to  the  person  of  the  young  duke  of  Berri, 
who  is  reputed  to  bear  a  close  resemblance  to  his 
father,  and  to  have  the  same  benign  disposition  and 
sagacious  intellect.      Finally  there   are   those  who, 

'*  Commines,  torn.  i.  pp.  71,  72.  —  Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  45. — Barante, 
(ed.  Gachard,)  torn.  i.  p.  246. 


I> 


288 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  t. 


neither  the  partisans  of  the  confederates  nor  the 
enemies  of  the  king,  are  more  dangerous  and  unscru- 
pulous than  either  —  men  of  purely  timid  character, 
who,  to  remove  the  present  evil,  to  avert  the  immedi- 
ate danger,  are  ready  to  yield  at  once  to  the  demands 
of  the  stronger  party,  to  accept  of  any  peace  when 
the  alternative  is  war." 

The  notables  of  the  city,  assembled  (August  24)  to 
deliberate  on  these  demands,  find  in  them  nothing 
unreasonable.  The  proposition  for  a  meeting  of  the 
Three  Estates  has  already  been  mooted ;  it  forms, 
indeed,  the  burden  of  the  ballads  and  pasquinades 
that  have  circulated  for  a  month  past.'"  Nor  does  it 
seem  right,  or  even  decorous,  to  refuse  admittance 
into  the  capital  to  the  members  of  th^  royal  family, 
provided  they  give  sufficient  guaranties  for  the  peace- 
able behavior  of  their  followers.  It  is  determined 
that  an  answer  shall  be  sent  to  them  to  this  effect ; 
but,  before  the  donuties  can  set  forth,  a  tumult  in  the 
street  announces  that  there,  at  least,  the  proposal  to 
throw  open  the  gates  and  allow  the  enemy  to  enter 
is  not  so  favorably  received.  The  cause  of  royalty, 
assailed  by  the  princes  end  the  nobles,  abandoned 
or  betrayed  by  its  sworn  defenders,  is  suddenly  es- 
poused by  the  lowest  orders  of  the  people,  moved 
not  by  any  love  to  Louin,  but  by  a  natural  instinct  of 
resistance.  An  excited  mob  has  gathered  in  front  of 
the  Hotel  de  Ville,  and  it  is  found  necessary  to  call 

'^  CommineR,  torn.  i.  p.  65.  —  Ba-    pasquinades  in  Duclercqi  torn  iv>  pp^ 
sin,  torn.  11.  p.  123.  157,  158. 

"  See  a  specimen  or  two  of  these 


CHAP.  VI.] 


PARIS  IN  THE  KING'S  ABSENCE. 


280 


out  the  civic  guard  to  protect  the  freedom  of  debate. 
The  count  of  Eu  avails  himself  of  this  occasion  to 
hold  a  review  of  his  troops.  Two  hundred  hinces 
and  ten  times  as  many  archers  fde  slowly  through 
the  streets  —  whether  to  preserve  order  among  the 
people  or  to  remind  the  municipal  authorities  that 
the  king's  interests  have  not  been  confided  solely 
to  their  keeping  is  a  matter  for  consideration.  The 
discussion  becomes  languid.  Voices  are  heard  with- 
out demanding  the  heads  of  the  traitors  who  have 
sold  the  city  to  the  confederates.  To  complete  the 
events  of  the  day,  a  letter  is  received  from  Louis 
announcing  that  he  has  assembled  the  Norman  levies, 
and  has  already  set  out  upon  his  return.  Montauban, 
sent  forward  with  a  portion  of  these  forces,  is  on  the 
point  of  arriving.  Under  these  circumstances  it  is 
thought  best  that  the  deputies  shall  carry  back  a 
message  that  the  king's  officers  will  not  allow  the 
gates  to  be  opened  without  his  permission.  It  is 
observed  that  the  bishop,  when  he  delivers  the  mes- 
sage, has  lost  his  usual  serenity  of  utterance  and 
deportment.  He  stammers,  and  is  half  inaudible. 
The  count  of  Dunois  answers  with  a  fierce  reitera- 
tion of  his  former  menace.  Between  these  opposite 
perils  the  "  notables  "  may  well  be  embarrassed.  But 
the  crisis  is  happily  passed.  The  city  is  not  assaulted, 
and  on  the  28th  Louis  arrives." 

Such  is  the  glimpse  which  we  get  at  the  state  of 

"  DeTroyes.pp.  36,  37.  — Com-    (ed.  Gachard,)  torn.  ii.  p.  246.— 
mines,  torn.  i.  pp.  72,  73.  —  Barante,    Michelet,  torn.  vi.  p.  117. 
VOL.  L  37 


!f 


290 


WAR  OF  TIIE  PUBLIC  'SVEAL. 


[book 


affairs  during  hia  abHence  —  a  i  interval  of  a  fortnigut. 
Apprised  of  all  that  was  passing,  he  had  collected  with 
incredible  despatch  two  thousand  Norman  lances,  u 
proportionate  number  of  archers,  pikemen,  and  otiior 
infantry,  artillery,  large  supplies  of  provisions,  —  all 
that  was  necessary  for  "  reconiforting  a  distressed  peo- 
ple," —  resolving  at  the  same  time  that  if  this  linal 
effort  should  prove  vain,  and  his  retiu'n  to  the  capital 
—  the  last  stronghold  of  his  power — were  cut  oH"  lie 
would  abandon  the  hopeless  struggle,  and  seek  a  ref- 
ujje  in  Switzerland  or  Milan."*  Thanks  to  his  own 
vigilance  and  activity,  he  was  still  a  king ;  and  those 
who  had  so  lately  forgotten  the  fact  trembled  when 
his  presence  at  the  head  of  an  army  brought  it  back 
to  their  recollection..  But  Ixjuis,  if  jr  tyrant,  was  not 
one  of  the  ordinary  stamp.  lie  sometimes  tasted  the 
sweets  of  vengeance,  but  he  was  not  a  gourmand.  He 
sometimes  had  recourse  to  the  efficacy  of  terror ;  but 
he  used  it  cautiously,  knowing  that  it  was  a  weapon 
with  a  double  edge.  On  an  occasion  like  the  present 
it  was  the  last  instrument  which  he  would  have 
chosen  to  employ.  He  displayed,  on  his  return,  a 
more  than  Christian  magnanimity.  He  knew  notiiing 
of  what  had  taken  place,  save  that  the  city  liad  been 
summoned,  and  that  the  good  burghers  had  answered 
with  a  stout  defiance.  The  warmth  of  his  emotions 
made  it  necessary  that  he  should  thank  them  indi- 


"  "  Plusieur  fois  U  m'a  diet  que  devers  le  due  de  MiUan,  Francisque, 
b'U  n'eust  peu  entrer  dedans  Paris,  qu'il  reputoit  son  grant  amy."   Com- 
et qu'il  eust  trouvd  la  villa  muec,  il  minea,  torn.  i.  p.  73. 
Be  fust  retire  devers  les  Suisses  ou 


CHAP.   VI.] 


PARIS  IN  THE  KINO'S   FUESENCE, 


291 


viflually  for  this  frenh  proof  of  their  attachment.  He 
went  his  rounds  from  street  to  street,  from  hoii.se 
to  house,  dinint^  with  one  citizen,  supping  with  an- 
other, bestowing  hivish  commendations  upon  all.'* 
A  few  of  the  public  servants  were  dismissed  from 
their  offices ;  and  four  or  five  of  the  deputies,  who 
had  taken  the  most  active  part  in  the  negotiations 
with  the  princes,  received  a  private  intimation  to 
remove  from  the  capital.  This  was  the  only  notice 
taken  of  the  intended  treason  at  the  time ;  but  Louis, 
as  we  have  before  remarked,  had  a  long  memory.-'" 

His  authority  in  the  capital  was  now  undisputed 
and  supreme.  Conspiracy  was  paralyzed.  Those 
who  had  tampered  with  the  functions  of  royalty 
grew  suddenly  absorbed  by  their  private  affairs.  No 
one  felt  emboldened  by  the  graciousness  of  the 
king's  demeanor  to  recommend  any  further  changes 
in  the  government,  or  to  suggest  the  terms  on  which 
he  should  sue  for  peace.-'  When  he  convoked  the 
magistrates  and  other  principal  inhabitants  of  the  city, 
and  gave  them  his  reasons  for  not  complying  with  the 
demands  of  the  confederates,  no  voice  was  raised  to 
dispute  the  wisdom  of  his  policy.  His  present  force 
was  sufficient  not  only  to  keep  Paris  in  subjection,  but 


"  Du  Haillant,  ap.  Petitot,  note 
to  Commines. 

•"  The  more  striking  indications 
of  the  tenacity  of  his  memory  in  con- 
nection with  the  events  of  this  period 
will  hereafter  be  noticed.  A  some- 
what whimsical  instance  was  his  in- 
sisting, when  the  bit,hop — "a  person 
of  saintly'  life  and  great  learning  "  — 


died,  in  1472,  on  placing  upon  his 
tombstone  a  record  of  the  part  be 
had  taken  in  the  conferences  with 
the  confederates.  De  Troyes,  p.  93. 
*'  "Ainsi  fut  ceste  praticque 
rompue,  et  tout  ce  pcuple  bien  mue : 
depuis  ne  se  fust  trouvc  homme  .  . . 
qui  plus  eust  ose  parler  de  la  mar- 
chandise."  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  73. 


292 


WAR  OF  TIIE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


to  repel  any  attack  that  might  be  made  by  tlie  enemy. 
Every  morning  a  troop  of  Norman  noblew  rallied  out 
to  nkirmish  witli  the  Burgundian  men-at-armH,  or  to 
cut  off  the  parties  of  foragers  that  were  scattered 
among  the  neighboring  villages.  Every  evening  they 
returned  to  relate  their  exploits  to  the  ladies,  from 
whose  applauding  smiles  they  drew  fresh  inspiration 
for  the  encounters  of  the  morrow.**  Sometimes  they 
brought  back  with  them  prisoners  of  rank,  from 
whom,  after  the  fashion  of  the  time,  they  exacted 
heavy  ransoms.  At  other  times  they  drove  in  a  herd 
of  half-naked  wretches  —  camp-followers  or  such-like 
vagrants  —  who  hud  wandered  beyond  the  lines  to 
pillage,  and  who,  having  no  means  wherewith  to  re- 
deem themselves,  were  put  up  at  auction,  and  sold, 
like  wild  fowl,  four  for  a  crown.'*' 

The  confederates,  on  their  side,  confined  them- 
selves to  similar  enterprises.  In  spite  of  their  nu- 
merical superiority,  in  spite  of  their  boastful  menaces, 
they  neither  laid  regular  siege  to  the  capital  nor 
maintained  any  effective  blockade.  The  market-boats 
which  descended  the  Seine  and  the  Marne  found 
their  passage  uninterrupted ;  and,  while  the  popula- 
tion of  the  city  was  sAvollen  by  the  addition  of  a 
large  military  force,  supplies  were  so  abundant  that 
even  in  the  price  of  bread  the  rise  was  scarcely  per- 

•*  "  Puis  veoient  les  domes  tous  Bourguignons,  tous  nnd  et  mal  en 

les  jours,  qui  leur  donnoient  envie  point,  qui  tous  furent  vendus  au  bu- 

de  se  monster."    Commines,  torn.  i.  tin,  et  en  donnoit-on  quatre  pour  uii 

p.  75.  •  escu,  qui  est  au  dit  prix  six  sous  «ix 

"   "Furent  pris  bien  vingt  ou  deniers  parisis  la  piece."  DeTroyes, 

vingt-quatre  poHlards  Calabriens  et  p.  41. 


CHAP.  Ti.]       INACTIVITY  OF  TlIE  CONFEDEIIATES. 


293 


reptible.  The  wiir,  instotul  of  interfering^  with  the 
coiirHC  of  trade,  hud  imparted  to  it  greater  freedom 
and  hrinkneHs.^*  It  is  doubtful,  however,  whether  thin 
inactivity  on  the  part  of  the  allies  proceeded  from 
incapacity  or  from  policy.  On  th  >  one  hand,  they 
were  re.straiiied,  by  a  fear  of  cutting  off  their  own 
.supi)lieH  and  exciting  the  hostility  of  the  people,  from 
oflbring  any  molestation  to  conmierce^  or  inflicting 
distre.Ms  upon  the  inhabitants  of  Paris,  while  it  is 
o(pially  clear  that  they  were  incapable  of  acting  in 
concert,  and  of  devising  any  plan  of  operations  for 
driving  the  king  from  his  defensive  position.  They 
kept  at  a  safe  distance  from  the  walls,  expecting 
Louis  to  act  the  part  of  a  chivalric  hero  and  lead 
forth  hij  forces  to  battle.  They  had  the  best  dispo- 
.sitiou  in  the  world  to  fight,  if  they  could  but  get  the 
opportunity.  They  were  overjoyed,  therefore,  when, 
one  night,  a  messenger  —  sent,  as  he  pretended,  by 
llieir  friends  in  the  city  —  came  to  the  banks  of  the 
river  opposite  to  the  head-quarters  of  the  count  of 
Charolais,  and  announced  the  king's  intention  on  the 
following  day  to  make  an  attack  upon  this  point  with 
his  whole  army.     At  an  early  hour  the  Burgundians 


m 


**  Comminea,  torn.  i.  p.  74.  —  La- 
marche,  torn.  ii.  p.  246. 

'*  The  Gascons  were  subsidized 
by  Charles,  to  induce  them  to  ab- 
stain from  pillage.  (Commincs,  torn, 
i.  p.  76.)  See  also  the  order  given 
by  the  Bastard  of  Bui^undy  for  the 
release  of  a  company  of  merchants 
captured  by  his  troops,  and  the  res- 
toration of   their  property :    "  Eu 


consid^racion  k  Tarmde  que  pn^sen- 
tement  se  met  bus  pour  le  bicn  de  ce 
joyaulme  et  non  pas  pour  empescher 
que  marchandise  n'eyt  cours  en  icel- 
luy ;  8(;nchant  vdritablement  I'inten- 
cion  de  mon  trfcs  redoubtd  seigneur 
monseigneur  de  Charrolois  estre  ain- 
si  fonde'e  ;  nous  vou«  ordonnons," 
&c.  I)oc.  Incd.,  Melanges,  torn.  ii. 
p.  260. 


294 


WAR  OF  TIIE  11JBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


were  astir.  The  lenders  assembled  to  make  their 
dispositions;  even  the  dukes  of  Berri  and  Brittany 
arrived,  armed  to  the  teeth.  John  of  Calabria  was 
in  a  fever  of  expectation.  He  acted  as  Charles's 
lieutenant,  visited  every  part  of  the  camp,  and,  riding 
along  the  ranks,  encouraged  the  men  with  the  assur- 
ance that  the  long  wished  for  hour  had  arrived.  The 
morning  was  dark,  the  earth  covered  with  fog.  A 
party  of  cavalierj,  sent  across  the  river  to  reconnoitre, 
returned  with  intelligence  that  the  enemy's  lances 
were  approaching  in  great  force.  Cannon  were  heard 
booming  in  the  distance ;  and  some  bullets,  thrown 
from  the  walls  of  Paris,  two  leagues  off,  actually  fell 
within  the  Burgundian  lines.-**  How  great  was  the 
disappointment  f».*it  by  all  these  gallant  and  excited 
hearts  when,  the  fog  clearing  away,  no  enemy  was 
to  be  seen !  A  group  of  lofty  tliistfes,  magnified  by 
the  mist,  had  been  mistaken  by  the  scouts  for  a  troop 
of  cavalry  1 27 

On  another  occasion  the  royal  inftmtry,  several 
thousand  strong,  followed  at  some  distance  by  the 
Norman  lances,  sallied  out  at  night,  threw  up  an 
entrenchment,  and  constructed  a  line  of  batteries 
along  the  river,  opposite  to  Conflans.  In  the  morn- 
ing they  opened  fire  from  a  great  number  of  pieces, 
forcing  the  duke  of  Calabria,  whose  troops  were  the 
most  exposed,  to  decamp  precipitately.     The  chateau 

**  "  Le  Roy  avoit  bonr.c  nrtilleiie  lieues),  mais  je  croy  bien  que  Ton 

8ur  la   muraille  de  Paris,   qui  tira  avoit  leve  aux  bastons  le  nez  bien 

plusieurs  coups  jusques  fi  nostre  est,  hault."     Commincs,  torn.  i.  p.  89. 
qui  est  grant  chose  (car  il  y  a  deux        "  Idem,  torn.  i.  pp.  87-90. 


:!■ 


CHAP.  VI.] 


SALLIES  AND  SKIRMISHES. 


295 


occupied  by  the  count  of  Charolais  was  also  a  prom- 
inent mark.  Two  of  the  balls  entered  the  room 
Avhere  he  sat  at  dinner  —  one  of  them  killing  an 
attendant  who  was  carrying  a  dish  to  set  upon  the 
table.  The  Burgundian  pannon,  with  the  exception 
of  some  enormous  pieces  that  could  not  easily  be 
moved,  w  ere  placed  in  position  behind  a  pierced  wall ; 
and  a  brisk  fire  —  the  heaviest,  indeed,  Conmiines 
tells  us,  he  ever  heard  —  was  interchanged  through- 
out several  successive  days.  At  the  same  time  Charles 
gave  orders  for  the  construction  of  a  bridge  lower 
down  the  stream,  intending  to  cross  with  his  whole 
army  and  take  the  enemy  in  flank.  When  this  work 
was  completed  preparations  were  made  for  commen- 
cing the  passage  at  the  dawn  of  the  following  day. 
A  solemn  mass  was  celebrated ;  and  the  soldiers 
shrived  themselves,  and  performed  the  other  offices 
of  good  Christians  about  to  encounter  a  great  peril. 
In  the  night,  however,  those  who  were  awake  per- 
ceived signs  of  movement  in  the  opposite  trenches. 
Presently  voices  were  heard  shouting  through  the 
darkness,  "  Adieu,  neighbors,  adieu ! "  and  flames 
sliooting  up  into  the  air  showed  that  the  royalists 
had  set  fire  to  the  huts  which  they  had  constructed 
for  their  temporary  accommodation,  and  stolen  back 
into  the  to\^Ti.^ 

Nothing,  indeed,  was  farther  from  the  king's 
thoughts  than  again  to  put  his  cause  to  the  hazard 
of  a  battle.^    He  could  not  afford  to  lose  another 

"  Commines,  torn.  i.  pp.  77-81. —        "  Commines,  tom.i.  pp.  76, 8L — 
Lamarche,  torn.  ii.  ]).  244.  Basin,  torn.  ii.  p.  123. 


■Ii 


|.; 


296 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  -WEAL. 


[book 


army,  whether  by  defeat  or  by  desertion.  His  policy 
was  to  weary  out  the  patience  of  his  enemies  by  tan- 
talizing sallies  and  feigned  attacks,  trusting  to  those 
natural  causes  of  dissension  which  could  hardly  fail 
to  exist  in  so  heterogeneous  a  mass  for  breaking  up 
the  combination  and  effecting  his  deliverance.  Nor 
was  he  likely  to  neglect  any  opportunity  that  should 
present  itself  of  treating  separately  with  such  of  the 
members  of  the  league  as  he  might  hope  to  detach 
from  it  by  the  employment  of  those  arts  of  seduction 
in  which  he  was  so  thoroughly  versed.  To  negotia- 
tions carried  on  under  his  own  eye  he  had  no  objec- 
tion ;  and  he  empowered  Maine,  whose  tastes  seemed 
to  qualify  him  for  diplomacy  rather  than  for  war,  to 
treat  with  the  counts  of  Saint-Pol  and  Dunois,  the 
commissioners  appointed  by  the  princes.  On  the 
days  on  which  the  conferences  were  held  a  truce  was 
proclaimed ;  and  the  idlers  of  both  armies  flocked  to 
the  place  of  meeting  to  interchange  gossip  and  to 
purchase  the  articles  brought  thither  for  sale  by  the 
hucksters  and  camp-followers.  Nor  was  this  the  only 
kind  of  trade  that  was  carried  on.  The  number  on 
cither  side  was  not  inconsiderable  of  those  Avho  Avere 
tempted  by  the  allurements  held  out  to  them  to  dis- 
pose of  their  allegiance,  and  make  profit  by  a  change 
of  service.  A  ditch  divided  the  two  parties ;  but  this 
was  a  slight  obstacle  to  desertion.  Sometimes  it  was 
crossed  by  a  score  of  royalists ;  at  other  times  by  as 
large  a  body  of  tlie  insurgents.  The  scene  of  those 
transactions   received   the   name   of  "the   Market," 


CHAP.  VI.] 


NEGOTIATIONS. 


297 


which  it  continued  to  bear  long  after  it  had  again 
become  a  solitude.^ 

In  the  mean  time  no  progress  was  made  by  the 
negotiators  in  arranging  terms  of  peace.  The  dis- 
cussions, indeed,  were  of  a  friendly  character  —  some- 
what too  friendly,  it  might  be  doubted.  Maine,  like 
a  good  diplomatist,  had  done  his  best  to  recommend 
himself  to  the  favor  of  those  with  whom  he  was  to 
treat,  sending  as  presents  to  the  duke  of  Berri  and  the 
other  princes  casks  of  choice  wine  and  loads  of  fruits 
and  vegetables  —  articles  which,  it  would  seem,  were 
more  plentiful  in  the  city  than  in  the  camp.^^  He 
had  forgotten,  however,  that  it  was  on  the  sovereign's 
behalf  that  he  had  been  authorized  to  act.  His  own 
views,  his  own  scruples,  his  own  interests  formed  the 
real  subject  of  discussion.  What  he  required  from 
the  confederates  was  an  explanation  in  regard  to 
their  design  —  an  assurance  that  it  was  not  directed 
against  the  king;  that  it  was,  in  truth,  altogether 
loyal  in  its  nature,  tending  to  the  general  benefit  of 
the  nation  and  of  the  crown;''*  When  his  doubts 
on  these  points  had  been  removed, — having  received 
a  further  pledge  from  the  allies  that  they  would,  in 
any  event,  maintain  him  in   the   possession  of  his 


'"  Cominines,  torn.  i.  pp.  81,  82. 

»'  l)e  Troves,  p.  .'58. 

''  "  Certiflioiis  ct  a.sseurons  i\  nos- 
trc  tres  chicr  et  tvi's  ame  oncle  ct 
cousin  le  contc  du  Maine,  que  nostrc 
intencion  et  Ics  causes  jjourquoy 
sumes  joings  ct  uuis  ensemble,  sont 
tendeues  tout  i  boune  fin  pour  le 
VOL.  I.  2T 


bien  du  royaulme  et  chose  publicque 
d'icclluy,  sans  avoir  voulontd  de  rien 
entrerompre  ne  toucher  i\  la  personne 
de  monseigneur  le  roy  nc  h  la  cou- 
ronne."  Accord  entre  les  princes 
ligues  ct  Charles  d'Anjou,  comte  du 
Maine,  Doc.  Incd.,  Melanges,  torn. 
ii.  p.  384. 


■,m|.  •!  i 


298 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


estates,  —  he  could  see  no  objection  to  expressing  his 
concurrence — secretly,  that  is  to  say — in  their  views. 
So  that,  in  fact,  his  negotiations  resulted  in  a  treaty, 
which,  however,  he  did  not  at  present  deem  it  neces- 
sary to  submit  for  the  ratification  of  the  king.^ 

Affairs  were  taking  an  inauspicious  turn  for  Louis. 
His  enemies  displayed  little  vigor,  it  is  true;  but 
they  held  their  ground  with  dogged  perseverance. 
The  king  was  blockaded,  if  the  city  was  not.  He 
was  debarred  from  all  those  healthful  excursions 
which  had  become  the  regular  routine  of  his  exist- 
ence —  visits  to  the  "  good  towns,"  pilgrimages  to  the 
shrines  of  Our  Lady,  quiet  tours  of  inspection  through- 
out the  kingdom,  where  he  saw  every  thing  with  his 
own  eyes,  contriving  often  to  remain  himself  unseen. 
Even  his  imagination  was  imprisoned.  It  was  impos- 
sible for  him  to  see  visions  of  another  province  added 
to  the  domain  of  the  crown,  another  strip  of  terri- 
tory skilfully  purloined  from  Aragon  and  annexed  to 
France,  another  stroke  of  policy  like  that  which  had 
made  him  master  of  Savoy,  when  his  actual  posses- 
sions had  shrunk  within  the  limits  of  his  bodily  sight. 
Li  his  prison  he  was  still  a  king,  but  with  no  reve- 


^'  The  agreement  bears  the  date 
of  September  1  i,  the  clay  on  which, 
the  chroniclers  tell  us,  negotiations 
were  broken  off.  (De  Troyes,  p. 
41.)  Louis,  who  had  perhaps  per- 
mitted the  negotiation  as  much  for 
the  amusement  of  Maine  as  with  the 
view  of  sounding  the  allies,  was  not 
deceived.  His  reasons  for  dissem- 
bling appear  from  a  remark  which 


he  made  to  Melun.  "  He  told  me 
that  his  said  uncle  (of  Maine)  was  a 
man  of  a  strange  character  and  dif- 
ficult to  manage  ;  that  it  was  never- 
theless necessary  to  do  every  pos- 
sible thing  to  content  him,  since,  if 
he  were  lost,  the  king  would  have 
no  prince  of  his  blood  left  on  bis 
side."  Proccs  de  Charles  de  Melun, 
Lenglet,  tom.  iii.  p.  15. 


CHAP.  VI.]      GIDDY  BEHAVIOR  OF  THE  PARISIANS. 


299 


nues  flowing  into  his  exchequer,  no  vassals  coming 
to  do  him  homage,  no  envoys  arriving  from  foreign 
courts  —  nothing  wherewith  to  while  away  the  time 
but  a  daily  correspondence  with  his  friend  Sforza, 
who  gave  him  excellent  advice,  if  he  could  but  have 
had  the  opportunity  to  follow  it,  for  sowing  divisions 
among  his  enemies  and  profiting  thereby.^^  Nothing 
but  this  —  and  listening  to  the  murmurs  in  the 
streets,  and  to  the  epigrams  upon  his  ministers  and 
upon  himself,  of  which,  in  spite  of  his  presence  and 
that  of  his  army,  there  was  still  a  perpetual  flood. 
He  was  in  danger  of  losing  his  temper  when  he 
saw  how  little  the  giddy  Parisians  sympathized  with 
his  anxieties,  how  little  they  appreciated  his  efforts 
in  behalf  of  the  nation.  Was  a  truce  proclaimed? 
The  whole  population  poured  out  to  view  the  ene- 
my's encampment,  to  get  news  of  what  was  going 
on,  to  trade  with  the  soldiers,  to  listen  to  their  boast- 
ings and  persuasions.  It  was  in  vain  that  Louis  issued 
an  order  that  on  these  occasions  no  person  should 
leave  the  city.  Unless  he  had  turned  his  artillery 
upon  them,  as  he  was  tempted  to  do,  there  were  no 
means  of  preventing  the  inhabitants  from  indulging 
their  curiosity.  His  sole  resource  was  to  station 
officers  at  the  gates  to  take  down  the  names  of  those 
who  returned  !  ^  It  was  not  enough  for  these  people 
that  they  paid  no  taxes ;  that  the  army  had  brought 
large  supplies  with  it  from  Normandy;  that  the 
price  of  provisions  was  no  higher  than  in  time  of 
peace.     They  raised   a   clamor   about   every   petty 


'*  Basin,  torn.  ii.  p.  124. 


De  Trpyes,  p.  39. 


3 


II       iA~-\ 


300 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


larceny  committed  by  the  troops ;  and  if  a  ^irl  had 
chanced  to  be  seduced  by  an  archer  of  the  guard, 
her  parents  came  to  the  king  to  demand  justice!  His 
favorite  minister,  good  Bishop  Balue,  —  an  invalua- 
ble person,  whom  he  was  afterwards  reluctantly,  but 
hy  stern  necessity,  compelled  to  shut  up  in  a  cage,  — 
was  assaulted  one  night  in  a  public  street,  and  beaten 
nearly  to  death.  The  king  was  to  be  held  responsible 
even  for  the  ravages  committed  by  the  enemy  out- 
side the  walls.  When  he  strove  to  cheer  the  citizens 
by  promising  that  they  should  not  long  be  vexed  by 
the  presence  of  the  confederates,  "  Ay,  sire,"  was  the 
grumbling  answer,  "  but  in  the  mean  time  they  are 
eating  our  grapes  and  spoiling  our  vines."  "  It  is 
better,"  was  the  sharp  and  ominous  retort,  "  that  they 
should  eat  your  grapes  and  spoil  your  vines,  than 
that  they  should  get  into  your  cellars,  and  find  the 
hoards  of  silver  that  you  keep  concealed."^*' 

It  became  more  and  more  evident  that  in  this 
trial  of  endurance  Louis  was  the  losing  party.  He 
determined,  therefore,  to  make  an  attempt  in  ear- 
nest to  bring  about  a  settlement;  in  other  words, 
he  resolved  to  open  negotiations  in  person.  To 
whom  should  he  address  himself?  He  w^ould  doubt- 
less have  found  it  easy  to  make  a  satisfactory  ar- 
rangement with  the  duke  of  Berri ;  but  it  was  not 

^*  "  Un  nomine  Pierre  Beron  liii  et  mangeassent  leadits  raisins,  que 

respondit:  Voire  Siie,  mais  ils  vcu-  ce  qu'ils  vinssent  dedans  Paris  pren- 

dangent  nos  vigiies  et  mangeiit  nos  dre   leurs   tasses   et   vaillaut  qu'ils 

raisins  sans  y  s(,'avoir  remedier.     Et  avoient  mis  et  musscz  dedans  leurs 

le  Roy  rejiliqua  qu'il  valloit  mieux  cuvcs  et  celiers."    Idem,  p.  40. 
qu'ils  vendeugeassent  lesdites  vignes 


CHAP.vi.]    INTERVIEW  BETWEEN  LOUIS  AND  CHARLES.     301 

to  be  supposed  that  the  other  leaders  were  simple 
enough  to  permit  liim  to  have  a  private  conference 
with  his  brother.  On  the  other  hand,  it  would 
have  been  a  mere  waste  of  time  to  treat  with  any 
one  whose  defection  from  his  party  would  not  so 
weaken  it  as  to  ensure  its  speedy  downfall.  There 
was  no  course  open  to  the  king  but  a  direct  appeal 
to  the  most  formidable  of  his  enemies  —  the  most 
powerful  and  the  most  determined.  The  army  of  the 
count  of  Charolais,  reenforced  by  fresh  arrivals  from 
the  Netherlands,  outnumbered  the  united  forces  of 
his  allies ;  his  father's  treasury  supplied  him  with  the 
means  of  subsidizing  the  poorer  leaders ;  and  his  own 
stubborn  resolution  was  the  soul  of  the  enterprise, 
from  which  it  derived  whatever  unity  and  vigor  it 
displayed.  As  long  as  Charles  kept  the  field  Louis 
must  remain  shut  up  in  the  capital.  If  the  propo- 
sitions made  by  Louis  were  accepted  by  Charles,  the 
rest  of  the  confederates  would  lose  no  time  in  making 
their  submission. 

At  the  hour  appointed  for  the  interview  the  Bur- 
gundian  leader,  surrounded  by  his  principal  officers, 
took  his  station  at  the  side  of  the  river  in  front  of 
hi.s  quarters,  and  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  king's 
boat.  As  it  approached  the  landing-])lace,  Louis,  who 
had  brought  with  him  only  four  or  five  attendants, 
stood  forward,  and,  addressing  the  count  of  Charolais, 
said,  "  My  brother,  have  1  assurance  for  my  safety  ?  " 
"  The  assurance  of  a  brother,  Monseigneur,"  was  the 
reply.  Stepping  on  shore,  the  king  opened  the 
conversation  in  his  habitual  tone  of  frankness  and 


il 


I. ':■»(!? I 


i   i 


if=i   I 


<J 


302 


WAR  OF  TIIE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


I 

H 

t 

wkiBimH 

1 

r 

1  i 

RS 

M 

»K 

ii 

91 

iamjiffll^^BKI 

, 

!  ;i'  1 SIIH  i 

MmWa^^^B 

I 

ill 

iiiB 

L 

31 


[book  I. 


good-humor.  "  My  brother,  now  I  know  that  you 
arc  indeed  descended  from  this  royal  house  of  France. 
You  sent  me  word  that  before  a  year  was  gone  I 
should  rue  the  pleasantries  uttered  by  my  foolish 
chancellor  at  Lille ;  and  truly  I  have  found  cause 
to  rue  them,  and  that  long  before  the  year  is  <nit. 
You  are  a  man  of  your  word,  my  brother;  and  it 
is  with  such  men  that  I  desire  to  have  dealings." 
When,  on  the  weaker  side,  there  was  this  candid 
acknowledgment  of  error  and  of  inferiority,  it  might 
be  hoped  that  on  the  stronger  side  a  corresponding 
magnanimity  would  be  displayed;"''  while  the  allu- 
sion to  Charles's  fidelity  in  keeping  engagements  of 
a  hostile  character  was  doubtless  intended  to  remind 
him  of  the  sacredness  of  the  pacific  pledge  he  had 
just  given.  Referring  in  a  more  serijjus  tone  to  the 
invectives  which  had  drawn  forth  a  menace  so  punc- 
tually executed,  Louis  disavowed  his  own  responsi- 
bility in  the  matter,  protesting  that  he  had  given  no 
charge  to  Morvilliers  to  make  use  of  language  so 
offensive.  Then,  placing  himself  between  the  counts 
of  Charolais  and  Saint-Pol,  he  began  to  walk  up  and 
down,  entering  into  a  full  and  lengthy  discussion  of 
the  means  of  restoring  peace. 

It  was  not  in  his  character  to  have  sought  such  an 
interview  as  the  present  unless  he  had  been  prepared 
to  make  the  largest  concessions.  A  war  for  the  public 
advantage  meant,  as  he  well  knew,  a  war  for  the 

"  "  Et  diet  le  Roy  ces  parollea  en  telle,  qu'il  prendroit  plaisir  ausdictes 
bon  visaige  et  riant,  congnoisaant  la  paroUes."  Commines,  torn.  i.  p. 
nature  de  celluy  d  qui  il  parloit  estre    93. 


CHAP.  VI.]    INTERVIEW  BETWEEN  LOUIS  AND  CHARLES.      o03 

private  advantage  of  all  who  could  be  induced  to 
embark  in  it;^  and  having  once  settled  in  his  own 
mind  the  necesnity  of  yielding,  of  acknowledging  his 
embarrassments,  of  announcing  his  bankruptcy,  he 
was  impatient  to  extricate  himself  from  his  present 
intolerable  position  by  settling  all  demands  and  ob- 
taining a  discharge.  Accordingly  the  personal  claims 
preferred  by  the  count  of  Charolais  were  allowed 
without  demur.  The  towns  on  the  Somme  should  be 
given  up,  with  a  pledge  that  no  attempt  would  again 
be  made  to  redeem  them  during  Charles's  life.  The 
counties  of  Boulogne  and  Guines  were  to  be  settled 
on  him  and  his  heirs  in  perpetuity.  To  the  count 
of  Saint-Pol  Ijouis  offered  the  place  of  constable  of 
France  —  an  elevation  which  might  well  be  thought 
sufficient  to  satisfy  the  ambition  of  that  aspiring 
noble,  while  it  could  not  fail  to  be  in  the  highest 
degree  agreeable  to  his  friend.  Nor  did  the  king  dis- 
play a  different  spirit  when  he  came  to  deal  with  the 
pretensions  of  the  dukes  of  Brittany,  Calabria,  and 
Bourbon,  and  with  those  of  the  Armagnacs.  He  ex- 
pressed his  assent  to  the  conditions  on  which  these 
powerful  vassals  were  severally  ready  to  lay  aside 
the  sword.  The  inferior  members  of  the  league  were 
also  to  be  gratified  to  the  full  extent  of  their  hopes ; 
places  and  pensions  were  to  be  distributed  without 
stint  among  those  who,  by  their  late  exertions  for 
the  public  weal,  had  earned  the  gratitude  of  the 
crown  and  proved  their  ability  to  serve  it. 

'*  "Le  bien  public  estoit  converty  en  bien  particuUer."  Idem,  loo.  cit 


I,  ;; 
■5 


flip 

#1 


804 


WAll  OF  TIIE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[itOOK    I. 


Tlioso  questions  sottlod,  what  reiiiiiiiiod  ?  The 
most  diflicult  of  all  —  that  which  related  to  the  dwkv 
of  Berri.  One  of  the  principal  motives  which  had 
been  alleged  by  the  confederates  in  justification  of 
their  appeal  to  arms  was  their  desire  to  secure  to  that 
prince  the  position  to  which  he  was  entitled  by  his 
birth.  His  l)rother,  it  was  argued,  in  making  no  ade- 
quate provision  for  him  had  departed  from  the  ordi- 
nary practice,  and  set  a  precedent  dangerous  to  the 
rights  of  all  the  members  of  the  rojal  family.  It 
was  necessary  that  Charles  of  France  should  take  his 
place  at  the  head  of  the  great  vassals  —  in  other 
words,  that  the  crown  should  be  despoiled  of  some  of 
its  fairest  possessions  in  order  that  another  princely 
house  should  rise  by  the  side  of  those  that  already 
exercised  sovereign  sway  over  so  large  a  portion 
of  the  realm.  Thus  the  system  was  to  be  perpetu- 
ated by  which,  from  generation  to  generation,  the 
territory  of  France  was  parcelled  out  among  the 
princes  of  the  blood,  until  the  monarchy  should  have 
returned  to  its  condition  under  the  feeble  s  ccessors 
of  Charlemagne,  or  until  its  very  name  became 
extinct. 

Yet,  even  on  this  point,  Louis  —  ever  more  in- 
clined to  deviate  for  a  tune  at  least  from  his  direct 
line  of  policy  than  to  waste  his  strength  in  strug- 
gling with  insuperable  obstacles  —  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  a  sacrifice  which  might  have  seemed  in- 
tended to  anticipate  the  cravings  of  an  exorbitant 
cupidity.  Nevertheless  it  did  not  come  up  to  the 
mark  drawn  by  the  allies.     They  had  themselves 


CHAi'.vi.]    INTEUVIKW  DEHVEEX  LOUIS  AND  CILUILES.      30'J 


,4? 


made  choice  of  the  province  which  the  king  was  to 
bestow  upon  his  brother.  What  wuh  their  Helection  ? 
Normandy.  Normandy!  the  largest  and  the  most 
productive  of  his  territories ;  the  province  whicli  con- 
tributed more  than  one  third  of  all  the  revenues  of 
the  crown;  which  had  just  furnished  him  with  the 
means  that  alone  enabled  him  to  make  a  stand 
.against  his  assailants ;  which  in  the  hands  of  the  ene- 
mies of  France  had  so  often  afforded  them  the  means 
of  conquering  the  whole  kingdom,  and  treating  it  as 
a  subject  state ;  which  had  been  redeemed  after  so 
long  a  struggle  and  at  so  great  a  cost  of  blood ; 
which  was  so  situated  —  flanked  on  the  one  side  by 
the  duchy  of  Brittany,  and  on  the  other  by  the  do- 
minions of  the  house  of  Burgundy ;  fronting  the  coast 
of  England,  where  ruled  the  descendants  of  its  fonner 
sovereigns,  and  commanding  the  passage  from  the 
sea  to  the  very  doors  of  the  capital — that,  if  severed 
from  the  monarchy,  it  must  become  the  impregnable 
seat  of  an  independent  power,  fatal  to  the  existence 
of  the  monarchy, —  here  was  a  demand  by  which  the 
king  might  well  be  startled.  He  had  already  made 
concessions  involving  the  loss  of  all  the  ground  which 
he  had  gained  since  his  accession  and  the  abandon- 
ment of  his  most  cherished  schemes.  But  he  was 
now  asked  to  surrender  what  had  been  won  not  by 
himself,  but  by  his  ancestors ;  won  not  through 
secret  intrigues,  but  in  a  popular  and  glorious  war ; 
won  not  from  native  princes  and  vassals,  but  from 
the  foreign  aggressor,  the  hereditary  foe.    Impossible  ! 


VOL.  I. 


39 


1 


500 


WiUl  OY  THE  PUBLIC  WJiAL. 


[UOOK  I. 


Such  a  surrender  would  be  not  defeat  alone,  not  dis- 
grace alone,  but  ruin."'" 

But  it  wa.s  in  vain  that  Louis  strove  with  his  usual 
elo(|uen(;e  to  modify  the  sentiments  of  his  opponent 
and  to  lead  him  td  the  consideration  of  less  outra- 
geous terms.  In  vain  he  brought  forward  his  counter 
proposition  —  offering,  in  place  of  Nornumdy,  Cham- 
pagne and  La  Brie,  provinces  comprising  an  almost 
equal  extent  of  territory,  while  in  other  respects  less 
important.  All  his  arguments  were  wasted  on  the 
iron  temper  of  the  man  whom  he  addressed,  among 
whose  qualities  none  was  so  renuirkable  as  the  stub- 
bornness of  his  resolution,  his  constancy  in  adhering 
to  his  purposes  and  plans,  the  tenacity  with  which  lie 
clung  to  the  object  in  his  grasp.  There  were  many 
reasons  why  Charles  might  well  have  been  tempted 
to  close  with  the  king's  proposals.  The  confederacy, 
as  he  well  knew,  Avas  bound  together  by  a  cord  too 
slender  to  endure  a  constant  and  prolonged  strain. 
His  own  superior  power,  the  victory  which  '*-  had 
gained  at  Montlh(jry  without  their  assistance,  had 
excited  feelings  of  jealousy  in  the  breasts  of  his 
allies.  The  Armagnacs  had  begun  to  negotiate  with 
Louis  on  their  own  account.*''  The  duke  of  Berri,  as 
had  been  seen,  was  not  a  man  in  whom  to  repose  con- 
fidence. Why  risk  the  successes  already  achieved  on 
the  chance  of  obtaining  for  this  timid  and  vacillating 

*'  The  king's  views  on  this  point  January,  1466,  to  his  envoys  to  the 

are  to  be  found,  under  his  own  hand,  count  of  Charolais.  Doc.  Ined.,  Md- 

in  a  document  from  wliich  we  shall  langes,  torn.  ii.  j).  423,  et  seq. 

hereafter  have  occasion  to  quote  —  *"  De  Troyes,  p.  38. 
the  instructions  given  by  him,  in 


cuAP.  Ti.]    INTERVIEW  BE-nVEEN  LOUIS  AND  (JllAllLES.      307 


prince  a  position  of  which  he  could  not  appreciate 
ihii  jidvantageM,  a  power  which  he  was  not  compe- 
tent to  use  ?    The  objects  with  which  the  count  of 
Charoliiis  had  enlisted  in  the  enterprise  were   now 
attained.     lie  had  extorted  all,  and  more  than  all, 
that  lie  had  originally  sought.     It  required  only  his 
own  concurrence  to  assure  to  him  the  I'ruits  of  victory, 
lie  had  obtained  similar  tenns  for  his  associates.    He 
might,  therefore,  close  the  campaign  in  triumph  and 
with  untaniished  honor.     He  had  also  a  strong  per- 
sonal motive  for  desiring  to  bring  the  war  to  an 
immediate  concliVsion.     Every  day  he  received  mes- 
sages from  his  father  urging  him  to  return  home  and 
take  command  of  an  expedition  against  Li(3ge.     The 
tuil)ulent   people   of  that  state,  having   formed  an 
alliance    offensive    and   defensive  with    the    French 
monarch,  had  proclaimed  war  against  the  duke  of 
Burgundy,  and  ravaged  the  borders  of  Luxembourg 
and  Brabant.      They  had  already  suffered  a  defeat 
from  the  forces  sent  against  them  by  Philip ;  but  an 
attack  by  enemies  so  despicable  was  itself  an  insult 
to  so  great  a  prince  for  winch  no  chastisement  could 
be  too  severe.     With  the  temerity  of  weakness  they 
seemed  to  tempt  their  doom  by  renewed  prepara- 
tions, by  exidtant  threats,  and  by  infamous  contume- 
lies directed  against  the  illustrious  house  the  weight 
of  whose  power  they  had  so  often  felt.    These  e^  ents 
could  not  but  rouse  in  Charles's  mind   as  stern  a 
feeling  as  in  Philip's.     Ho  had  vowed,  indeed,  to 
make  terrible  reprisals;  and  none  could  doubt  that 
this  vow  would  be  performed  to  the  letter.  —  Yet, 


I 


I! 


is  ' 


I 


308 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[nooK  I, 


being  thus  sure,  vengeance  might  be  deferred.  The 
stroke  by  which  Louis  was  pros  trated  and  disarmed 
would  be  to  his  wretched  allies  an  omen  of  their  own 
fate.  From  so  wily  a  foe  it  was  vain  to  exact  condi- 
tions that  did  not  carry  in  themselves  the  pledge  of 
their  fulfilment.  His  own  terms  were  liberal  because 
easy  to  elude.  In  Champagne  his  brother  would  be 
within  his  reach  —  to  be  duped  by  liis  professions,  to 
be  caught  by  his  snares,  to  be  crushed,  when  the 
opportunity  should  arise,  by  his  arms.  In  Normandy 
the  prince  would  be  less  exposed.  There  he  would  be 
surrounded  by  friends.  He  would  be  able  to  maintain 
a  constant  intercourse  with  his  advisers  and  pr')tect- 
ors  —  to  receive  assistance,  in  any  emergency,  not 
only  from  the  count  of  Charolais  on  the  one  side,  but 
from  the  duke  of  Brittany  on  the  other.  Above  all, 
the  king's  ambition  would  thus  be  eflfectually  bridled. 
An  unbroken  line  of  hostile  spears  would  forever 
confront  him.  Conterminous  provinces,  with  an  unin- 
terrupted line  of  searcoast  from  Flanders  to  Poitou, 
would  be  in  the  hands  of  the  confederates.  Their 
league  would  be  perpetual.  If  they  needed  additional 
strength,  they  had  but  to  invite  the  king  of  England 
to  the  dominions  of  his  ancestors,  through  which 
would  lie  his  passage,  undefended  and  unimpeded,  to 
the.  throne  still  claimed  as  his  rightful  inheritance.*^ 


*'  "Existimabant  emm  [principes 
et  socii  factionis]  noii  impriidenter 
quod,  ubi  Normanniam  assccutus  fo- 
ret  (qufp,  sine  aliqua  intermedia  ter- 
ra, ex  uno  extremo  duci  BritannioB, 
ex  altero  vero,  modlco  excepto  in- 


tervallo,  [and  this  intermediate  ter- 
ritory, it  must  be  remembered,  com- 
prised Calais,  still  in  the  hands  of 
the  English,  and  Picardy,  which  by 
the  proposed  treaty  was  to  be  re- 
stored to  tlie  house  of  Burgimdy] 


CHAP.  VI.]    INTERVIEW  BETWEEN  LOUIS  AND  CHARLES.      309 

Here,  therefore,  was  a  vital  question  at  issue  —  a 
conflict  not  of  adverse  interests  alone,  but  of  hostile 
principles.  On  the  preservation  of  Normandy  de- 
pended that  of  the  French  monarchy.  Restored  to 
its  place  among  the  great  fiefs,  and  firmly  cemented 
with  the  otliers,  that  province  would  become  the 
Iceystone  of  the  arch  that  supported  the  fabric  of 
feudalism.  It  was  a  question  which  both  parties 
viewed  in  its  true  aspect ;  and  when  this  became  ap- 
parent,—  when  each  had  proved  the  other's  strength 
and  found  him  immovable,  —  it  was  useless  to  con- 
tinue the  discussion.  In  spite  of  his  disappointment, 
Louis,  in  taking  leave  of  the  count,  preserved  the 
same  tone  with  which  he  had  at  first  greeted  him. 
He  invited  Charles  to  visit  him  at  Paris;  but  the 
temerity  of  the  monarch  —  a  strange  temerity,  that 
excited  the  astonishment  of  the  whole  army  —  was 
not  to  be  imitated  by  a  subject.  The  count  excused 
himself  on  the  plea  of  a  vow  which  forbade  him  to 
enter  the  gates  of  a  town  until  he  should  return  to 
his  father's  provinces.  Leaving  a  liberal  present  to 
be  distributed  among  the  archers  of  the  Burgundian 
guard,  Louis  entered  his  boat  and  returned  to  Paris.*^ 


■i  ,;'fi 

i  -  .:.  i  'i 


m 


I  I 


terns  ducis  BurgiintUac  contcrminat) 
ipos  tres  principes,  ita  se  ipsis  vici- 
nantes,  facile  se  contra  regcm  et  alios 
sibi  fiiederatos  posse  tutari  ac  defen- 
dere  (cum  ctiam  et  littora  maris  ten- 
uissent,  a  finibus  Flandriic  usque 
Pictaviam),  et  {jer  hoc  eorum  poten- 
tio!  atque  viribus,  sic  conterminanti- 
bus  et  conjunctis,  regem  verisimiliter 
prffivalere  non  posse ;  contra  quern 
etiam,  si  ingrueret  necessitas,  facile 


ab  Anglia  possent  auxilia  obtinere." 
Basin,  torn.  ii.  p.  127.  —  See  also  the 
remark  of  Commines,  "  La  chose  du 
monde  qu'il  [le  comte  de  Charolais] 
desiroit  le  plus,  c'estoit  dc  veoir  ung 
due  en  Normandie,  car  par  ce  nioyen 
il  luy  sembloit  le  Roy  estre  affoibly 
de  la  tierce  partie."  Tom.  i.  p.  109. 
^'  Duclercq,  tom.  iv.  p.  205.  — 
Commines,  tom.  i.  p.  93, 


310 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


He  returned  to  Paris  —  to  his  prison-house.  Were 
not  the  walls  closing  around  him  ?  Had  not  the  air 
become  stifling  ?  "  His  Normandy ! "  —  must  this  in- 
deed be  the  price  of  liberty?  It  was  but  a  few 
months  since  all  his  schemes  had  appeared  to  pros- 
per ;  and  now  he  stood  on  the  brink  of  destruction. 

He  would  not  abandon  the  negotiation,  unprom- 
ising as  had  been  the  commencement.  He  opened 
a  daily  communication  with  the  count  of  Charolais. 
Their  messenger  was  the  trusty  and  sagacious  Guil- 
laume  Biclie  —  still  the  servant  of  Charles,  and  still 
regarded  with  the  same  high  favor  by  the  king.  One 
result  followed.  The  other  chiefs,  taking  umbrage 
at  this  private  intercourse  between  the  Burgundian 
leader  and  the  enemy,  affected  to  regard  the  former 
as  no  longer  entitled  to  their  confidence,  and  held 
councils  which  he  was  not  invited  "to  attend.  But 
this  proceeding  did  not  lead  to  the  explosion  that 
might  have  been  cxijected.  At  so  critical  a  moment 
Charles  preserved  his  self-command.  He  dissembled 
his  indignation,  and  assumed  in  his  bearing  towards 
his  allies  a  cordiality  foreign  to  his  disposition.*'  H6 
knew  that  measures  now  in  progress  would  bring 
the  contest  to  its  final  issue  —  that  in  a  few  days 
the  question  still  in  dispute  would  be  decided. 

Did  not  Louis  detect  the  signs  of  his  approaching 


*^  "  Se  mit  plus  de  fcstc  et  joyeulx  mon  advis  qu'il  en  cstoit  grant  be- 

avec  ces  seigneurs,  que  paravant,  et  soing,  et  dangicr  qu'ilz  ne  se  en  fus- 

avee  meilleure  chicre  ;  et  eut  plus  sent  scparez."    Commines,  torn.  i. 

coniniunications  avec  eulx  et  leurs  p.  95. 
geus,  qu'il  n'avoit  acoustumu  ;  et  k 


CHAP.  VI.] 


LOSS  OF  NORMANDY. 


311 


fate  ?  One  portent,  at  least,  was  visible.  On  the 
night  of  September  20  the  outer  gate  of  the  Bastille, 
one  of  the  entrances  into  the  city  from  the  open  fields, 
was  discovered  to  be  unbarred.  The  cannon  were 
found  to  have  been  spiked.  The  officer  in  command 
of  the  fortress  was  Philip  de  Melun,  father  of  Charles 
de  Melun.  The  town  was  filled  with  alarming  rumors. 
The  citizens  kept  watch  and  ward  throughout  the 
night,  closed  the  streets  with  chains,  and  refused  to 
disband  even  at  the  king's  orders.**  His  own  anxie- 
ties were  doubtless  at  their  highest  pitch. — But  they 
were  soon  to  terminate. 

The  next  morning  brought  intelligence  that  a 
party  of  the  confederates  had  entered  Normandy. 
Pontoise  had  opened  its  gates  —  the  commander  of 
the  garrison,  a  king's  officer,  giving  the  signal  for 
surrender.  A  few  days  later  the  same  scene  was 
enacted  at  Rouen,  the  capital,  and  the  residence  of 
Madame  de  Breze.  It  was  she  indeed  —  or  rather 
her  counsellors,  the  prelates  of  the  province  and  the 
representatives  of  the  great  nobility  —  who  had 
planned  this  masterly  piece  of  treachery.  They  had 
disclosed  their  scheme  to  the  allies,  who,  grasping 
at  the  offer,  had  despatched  the  duke  of  Bourbon, 
with  three  thousand  men,  to  receive  the  submission 
of  the  province  in  the  name  of  Charles  of  France. 
The  other  principal  towns  speedily  followed  the  ex- 
ample of  the  capital  —  the  inhabitants  readily  con- 


ill 
j, 

m 
illi 


**  De  Troyea,  p.  44. — Commines,    of  these  circumstances  by  the  king,) 
(who  was  long  afterwards  informed    torn.  i.  p.  87. 


.'    I 


'II 

Ik 


1 


312 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  AVEAL, 


[book  I, 


senting  to  swear  allegiance  to  the  prince  and  to 
recognize  liim  as  their  sovereign.** 

This  last  and  greatest  treason  resolved  the  king's 
doubts.  The  struggle  in  his  mind  was  over.  He 
could  not  have  brought  himself  to  part  with  Nor- 
mandy; but  now  Normandy  was  lost!*"  There  was 
no  cause,  no  time,  for  further  deliberation.  His 
position  was  no  longer  tenable.  The  ground  was 
heaving  beneath  him.  What  had  hap;^)ened  in  Nor- 
mandy would  happen  to-morrow  in  Paris.  Even  in 
Paris  he  was  surrounded  by  Normans :  the  troops 
whose  fidelity  was  his  sole  dependence  were  the 
compatriots  of  those  who  had  just  betrayed  his  cause 
and  chosen  a  sovereign  for  themselves.  It  only  re- 
mained for  Louis  to  ratify  their  choice. 

He  sought  another  interview  with  the  count  of 
Charolais,  in  which  he  announced  to  him  what  had 
taken  place  and  his  own  determination  to  abide  by 
it.  "  Since  the  Normans,"  he  said,  "  wish  for  a  duke, 
they  shall  have  one."  It  seem.ed  that  he  was  well 
j)leased  to  have  had  the  decision  of  the  matter  taken 
out  of  his  hands.  Never  had  he  expressed  himself 
with  greater  frankness  and  vivacity ;  never  had  he 
said  so  many  flattering  things.*^  He  was  eager  to 
consummate  the  business,  and,  as  a  pledge  of  his 


*^  Basin,  torn.  ii.  p.  12G.  —  Com- 
mines,  torn.  i.  pp.  97, 98. — De  Troyes, 
p.  145. 

*^  "  Disant  que  dc  son  consente- 
ment  n'enst  jamais  bailld  tel  jiartaige 
ik  son  frere ;  mais  puisque  d'culx 
mesmes  lea  Normans  en  avoient  fuict 


ceste  nouvcl'etd,  il  en  estoit  con- 
tent."    Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  99. 

*'  "  M'a  (lit  icelluy  monseigneur 
Ic  roy  beaucoup  de  belles  paroUes," 
wrote  Charles  on  the  same  day,  (Oct. 
3,)  to  his  father.  Doc.  Incd.,  M«S- 
langes,  torn.  ii.  pp.  391-393. 


CHAP.  TI.] 


LOUIS  SUKRENDERS. 


313 


sincerity,  insisted  on  placing  in  Charles's  hands  the 
castle  of  Vincennes,  —  which,  though  surrounded  by 
the  forces  of  the  confederates,  had  never  been  cap- 
tured by  them,  —  to  be  held  until  the  treaty  slioidd 
be  executed. 

The  place  of  meeting,  on  this  occasion,  was  in  the 
open  fields  between  Conflans  and  Paris.  Louis  had 
come  thither  attended  by  a  hundred  archers  of  the 
Scottish  guard,  while  the  count  was  attended  by  a 
still  larger  body  of  followers  —  most  of  them,  how- 
ever, merely  attracted  to  the  spot  by  curiosity. 
Causing  his  men  to  halt,  Charles  hastened  to  join  the 
king,  who  turned  back  on  tne  road  by  which  he  had 
come,  and,  as  usual  when  engaged  in  conversation, 
walked  onwards  at  a  rapid  pace.  No  wonder  that 
his  companion,  listening  to  the  gratifying  announce- 
ment of  his  own  triumph  from  the  mouth  of  his  van- 
quished foe,  took  little  notice  of  the  lapse  of  time  or 
the  direction  in  which  he  was  going,  until  he  found 
himself,  to  his  surprise,  within  the  palisades  of  an 
outv/ork  that  formed  part  of  the  defences  of  the 
city.  Five  or  six  persons  of  his  suite  had  followed 
him  at  a  little  distance.  With  these  exceptions  he 
was  surrounded  only  by  troops  in  the  uniform  of 
the  king.  No  hostages  had  been  given  for  him ; 
neither  had  he  asked  for  or  received  any  safe-con- 
duct. t^Tp  was  thus  in  the  power  of  an  enemy  whose 
reputation  for  perfidy  was  almost  unexampled ;  and 
the  suspicion  flashed  upon  his  mind  that  his  situa- 
tion was  not  the  result  of  mere  accident.  But  this 
was  not  the  moment  to  evince  a  sense  of  danger. 

VOL.  I.  40 


u 

ii 
ii 


!   , 


314 


WAR  OF  TIIE  rUBLIC  ^VEAL. 


[book  1. 


Without  any  change  of  countenance,  therefore,  he 
continued  the  conversation.  Perhaps  Louis  was  not 
displeased  to  have  this  opportunity  oC  giving  a  proof 
of  his  good  faith  and  of  the  sincerity'  of  th'^  inten- 
tions which  he  had  just  avowed.  He  called  for  wine ; 
and  the  attendant  who  served  him  was  about  to  offer 
the  same  refreshment  to  the  count  of  Charolais.  But 
the  king  made  a  gesture  for  him  to  desist.  "  My 
cousin,"  he  said,  with  a  smile,  "drinks  no  wine  be- 
tween ineals."^*^  In  this  delicate  manner  he  saved 
Charles  from  an  embarrassment  which,  in  that  age, 
the  circumstances  would  have  fully  warranted. 

In  the  mean  time  the  Burgundian  camp  was  in  a 
ferment  of  alarm.  Nothing  less  was  apprehended 
than  an  instantaneous  attack  —  an  attemp  to  sur- 
prise the  army  in  the  absence  of  its  lejider,  who  had 
been  decoyed  into  an  ambuscade.  Tfie  chiefs  assem- 
bled for  consultation;  the  stragglers  were  called  in; 
the  troops  were  ordered  under  arms.  A  murmur- 
ing debate  arose,  in  which  conjectures  as  to  what 
had  happened  were  mingled  with  recollections  of  the 
darkest  story  in  the  annals  of  the  Burgundian  house 
—  the  bloody  tragedy  of  Monte reau.  Those  who  had 
gone  Avith  diaries  to  the  place  of  meeting  were  ve- 
hemently censured  for  ha\  ing  lost  sight  of  him.  The 
marshal  of  Burgundy,  an  old  and  trusted  servant  of 
the  duke,  suffered  the  greatest  share  of  anxiety,  for 
it  was  he  who  must  give  an  account  to  Philip  of 
what  had  befallen  his  son.     The  veteran's  feelings 

'"'  "Ne  versez  pas,  mon  beau  cousin  ne  boit  pas  entre  deux  repas." 
Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  50. 


CHAP.  VI.] 


TREATY  OF  CONFLANS. 


315 


alternated  between  fears  for  the  count's  safety  and 
indignation  at  liis  imprudence.  "  If  this  mad  young 
prince,"  he  exchiimed,  "  has  gone  wiH'ully  to  his  own 
dcvstruction,  it  is  for  us  to  take  care  that  his  folly 
shall  not  involve  the  loss  of  his  father's  army  and 
the  downfall  of  his  house.  Let  us  take  order  for  se- 
curing our  retreat  to  the  niarche-j  of  Burgundy  or  of 
Hainault."  While  he  thus  talked  of  leaving  Charles 
to  his  fate,  he  mounted  his  horse,  and,  accompanied 
by  Saint-Pol,  rode  off  in  the  direction  of  Paris,  impa- 
tient to  gather  titlings  from  the  scouts.  A  troop  of 
horse  appeared  in  the  distance ;  it  was  a  party  of  the 
royal  guards  sent  by  Louis  to  escort  the  count  on  his 
return.  The  marshal  hastened  towards  him,  with  a 
reproof  ready  on  his  lips,  and  was  somewhat  disap- 
pointed when  Charles,  who  respected  the  privileges 
of  his  mentor,  met  him  with  a  prompt  acknowledg- 
ment of  his  error.*" 

The  war  was  now  ended  ;  and  it  only  remained  to 
apportion  the  spoils  among  the  victors.  By  a  sepa- 
rate treaty  with  the  count  of  Charolais,  signed  at 
Conflans,  October  5,  the  king  resigned  possession  of 
the  towns  on  the  Somme,  stipulating  for  their  resto- 
ration, after  Charles's  death,  on  the  payment  to  his 
successors  of  two  hundred  thousand  crowns.  This 
limitation,  however,  did  not  extend  to  the  seigniories 

'"'  Commincs,  torn.  i.  pp.  99-103.  with  discernment.  An  act  of  flagrant 

—  The  instances   are   not  rare   in  treachery — where  the  risk  was  great, 

which  the  character  of  Louis  suf-  the  advantage  douhtful  —  Mas  not  in 

fered  from  the  hasty  and  unjust  sus-  his  line.     If  capahle  of  the  cnme,  he 

picioas  of  those  wL.^  were  little  gLted  was  at  least  incapable  of  the  fault. 


n 


31G 


Vi'AB.  OF  THE  PUBUC  WEAL. 


[book  I. 


,r!\ 


I  . 


of  Roye,  P^ronne,  and  Montdidier,  which,  with  the 
counties  of  Boulogne  and  Guinea,  were  settled  upon 
Charles  and  his  heirs  in  perpetuity. 

Several  weeks  were  still  to  elapse  before  the  claims 
of  the  other  leaders  could  be  properly  adjusted.  An 
infinite  number  of  grants  of  lordships  and  immuni- 
ties were  to  be  drawn  up,  scrutinized,  and  sealed. 
There  was  a  general  scramble  for  pensions,  in  which 
not  only  the  princes  and  nobles,  but  in  some  instances 
their  wives,  and  even  their  mistresses,  took  part.  Even 
at  the  last  there  were  not  a  few  who  thought  they 
had  cause  for  dissatisfaction.  Yet  the  king  refused 
nothing.  It  was  only  his  own  adherents  who  had 
reason  to  accuse  hiui  of  unfairness.  The  persons 
among  whom  had  been  divided  the  confiscated  es- 
tates of  Dammartin  and  others  in  disgrace  were  now 
called  upon  for  restitution.  The  count  of  Eu  was 
obliged  to  part  with  certain  of  his  seignorial  rights 
in  NoiTTiandy.  The  count  of  Maine,  on  the  other 
hand,  presented  a  bill  for  the  services  which  he  had 
rendered  the  king  in  the  negotiations  before  de- 
scribed ;  and,  as  his  account  was  approved  by  the 
confederates,  the  king  could  do  no  less  than  pay  it.*° 

Feudalism  had  triumphed ;  the  reaction  was  com- 
plete. What  efforts  it  had  cost  Louis  to  regain  pos- 
session of  the  towns  of  Picardv  !  And  now  he  coded 
them  back  without  even  asking  restitution  of  the 

*"  "  Au  regard  de  mondit  Seigneur  recomnense  la  Terre  et  Seigneurie 

du  Maine,  pource  aussi  qu'.i  s'est  de  Taillebourg,  laquelle  le  Roy  fera 

employe   i\   ladite   pacification,...  delivrer  i\  mondit  Seigneur  du  Maine, 

le  Roy  sera  tenu  de  le  recompenser,  et  recompenser  ceux  k  qui  ellc  ap- 

et  iuy  donner  et  bailler  pour  icelle  partient."    Lenglet,  torn.  ii.  p.  517. 


CHAP.  TI.] 


HUMII.IATION  OF  LOUIS. 


317 


four  hundred  thousand  crowns  which  he  had  paid 
for  them !  His  money  and  his  pains  had  alike  been 
wasted.  Yet  what  was  this  loss  compared  with  that 
of  Normandy?  When  the  treaty  was  laid  before 
the  Parliament,  that  body  refused  to  register  it. 
The  jurists  declared  that  domains  so  vast  could  not 
be  legally  alienated  from  the  crown.  A  royal  order 
was  necessary  to  enforce  compliance  with  the  usual 
forms.''' 

One  matter  alone  was  overlooked,  —  that  which 
had  been  the  original  and  ostensible  pretext  for  the 
war,  —  the  reduction  of  the  taxes,  the  reform  of  the 
government.  We  are  wrong:  an  article  was  duly 
framed  setting  forth  the  necessity  of  devising  means 
for  the  restoration  of  the  "  public  weal,"  and  provid- 
ing for  the  appointment  of  thirty-six  "  notables,"  who 
were  to  meet  and  devise  means  accordingly.  "  I  did 
often  inquire,"  says  an  honest  chronicler,  "  who  these 
tliirty-six  notable  persons  were;   but  who  was  the 


"  The  treaties  of  Conflans  and 
Saint-Maur  des  Fosses,  with  various 
documents  relating  to  them,  are 
printed  in  Lenglet,  torn.  ii.  p.  499,  et 
seq.  See  also  the  "  Pieces  de  comp- 
tabilito,"  exhibiting  the  enormous  in- 
crease in  the  annual  expenses  of  the 
state  after  the  war,  in  the  Doc.  Indd., 
Melanges,  tom.  ii.  pp.  459-470. 

A  few  items,  in  addition  to  such 
as  are  noticed  in  the  text,  will  convey 
some  notion  of  the  extent  to  which 
the  spoliations  were  carried.  The 
duke  of  Calabria,  besides  the  grant 
of  several  lordshijis,  was  to  receive 
a  hundred  thousand  crowns  down, 


and  pay  for  five  hundred  lances  for 
six  months,  to  be  employed  in  the 
conquest  of  Naples,  to  facilitate  which 
the  king  engaged  to  renounce  his  al- 
liance with  the  Aragonese  house  and 
to  reestablish  the  Pragmatic  Sanc- 
tion !  To  the  duke  of  Bourbon  were 
assigned  a  hu.Hlred  thousand  crowns 
and  the  governu>ent  of  Guienne ;  to 
the  duke  of  Nemours,  the  govern- 
ment of  Paris  and  the  Isle  of  France ; 
to  the  duke  of  Brittany,  the  grant 
of  several  arriere-fiefs  in  cnat  prov- 
ince, with  a  full  renunciation  of  the 
royal  claim  to  levy  aids,  a  pension 
for  the  duke's  mistress,  &c.,  &c. 


Mi 


318 


WAR  OF  THE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[dook  I, 


f' 

1$  [ 

'"^: 

afli^Hy 

Ui-:. 

•   ; 

■  ■■ 

first  or  who  wsis  the  Inst  of  thorn  I  was  never  able 
to  learn."" 

While  the  world  wondered  at  hiH  abasement,  TiOuiH 
lilinself  had  too  iruich  humility  to  be  conscious  of  his 
humiliation.  Vivacious  and  self-possessed  as  ever,  he 
watched  with  curiosity,  not  unmingled  with  auuise- 
ment,  the  manner  in  which  the  booty  of  which  he  had 
been  despoiled  was  divided  and  appropriated  by  the 
captors.  He  freely  admitted  his  inal)ility  to  contend 
with  enemies  so  redoubtable  —  with  a  politician  like 
his  fair  brother  of  Bour])on,  with  an  invincible  warrior 
like  his  fair  brother  of  Charolais.'''  What  he  now 
desired  was  to  gain  the  friendship  of  these  powerful 
princes.  Mounted  on  his  little  hackney,  and  more 
"  honorably"  dressed  than  was  his  wont,  he  every  day 
visiteu  the  camp,  assisted  in  reviewing,  the  troops,  con- 
versed with  the  different  chiefs,  and  was  especially 
attentive  to  those  who,  on  account  of  former  slights, 
owed  him  a  personal  grudge.  But  it  was  for  Charles 
that  he  reserved  the  loudest  and  warmest  professions 


"  "  J'on  ay  assez  inqiiis,  et  nc 
Bceu  oncques  qui  cstoycnt  los  trente- 
six,  ne  qui  estoit  le  prcmiur,  nc  le 
dernier :  et  h  mon  jugemcnt,  le  Roy 
86  monstra  le  plus  subtil  de  tous  les 
autres  Princes."  Lamarche,  torn.  ii. 
p.  249. 

Honest  Oliver,  however,  who  is 
seldom  very  exact,  h.'id  failed  to 
make  inquiries  in  the  proper  quar- 
ter. The  thirty-six  commissioners 
were  duly  appointed ;  but,  as  their 
deliberations  led  to  no  material  re- 
sult, the  nation,  it  seems,  soon  be- 
came oblivious  of  their  names. 


"  "  En  apres  Icdit  accord  fait  et 
passe  par  aucuns  biens  preciez  au 
Roy,  fut  demandc  audit  Roy,  qui  le 
avoit  men  de  faire  tel  Traitc  h  son 
prejudice.  Et  le  Roy  respondit  en 
cette  maniere,  ce  a  cste  en  consider- 
tion  de  jeunesse  de  mon  frere  de 
Berry ;  la  prudence  de  beau  cousin 
de  Calabre  ;  le  sens  de  beau  frere  de 
Bourbon  ;  la  malice  du  Comte  d'Ar- 
mignac  j  I'orgueil  grand  de  beau 
cousin  de  Bretagne ;  et  la  puissance 
invincible  de  beau  frere  de  Charo- 
lois."    Lenglet,  torn.  iL  p.  500. 


CHAP.  VI.]      8EPAKATI0N  OF  THE  COXI'EDEIIATES. 


319 


of  his  regard.  He  fully  acknowlcdgod  his  ingrat- 
itiido  to  the  house  of  Burgundy,  and  the  error  he 
had  committed  in  connecting  himself  with  the  Croys. 
They  were  now  living  in  Paris  under  his  protection ; 
hut  he  protested  that  he  would  not  countenance 
them  in  opposition  to  their  master's  son.  From  this 
day,  he  declared,  there  was  no  man  on  whose  loyalty 
he  should  repose  such  entire  confidence  as  on  that 
of  the  count  of  Charolais.*' 

It  was  impoHsihle  not  to  be  touched  by  confessions 
m  penitent,  by  a  confidence  so  frank.  "  Gentlemen," 
said  Charles  to  his  officers,  in  the  presence  of  Louis, 
"you  and  I  belong  to  the  king  our  sovereign  lord,  and 
are  bound  to  serve  him  whenever  he  shall  need  us."^ 

At  length  the  arrangements  were  concluded,  the 
treaties  signed.  On  the  30th  of  October  Louis  rode 
to  the  castle  of  Vincennes,  to  complete  the  forms  by 
which  his  vassals  were  to  be  invested  with  their  new 
dignities  and  possessions,  and  to  bid  them  farewell. 
Charles  of  France  did  homage  for  Normandy ;  the 
count  of  Charolais,  for  the  towns  and  seigniories  in 


'*  "  Lc  roy  (lit  qu'il  nyme  mieulx 
mondit  scij^neur  mon  mnistre  que 
pcrsonnc  qui  vive,  et  qu'il  a  plus  de 
fiance  eii  luy  et  en  sii  ferme  loynuto 
que  en  tons  les  princes  du  monde  ; 
et  dit  de  luy,  de  son  bon  sons  et  de 
sa  bonne  volontd  tant  de  biens  et 
d'lioinieur,  qu'il  n'est  pas  il  croirc ; . . . 
et  dit  le  roy  :  Par  la  Pasques  Dieu  ! 
quand  tout  le  monde  luy  courroit 
sus,  il  Hc  vendra  rendre  es  mains  de 
mondit  seigneur,  et  congnoist  plaine- 
ment  qu'il  ne  s'est  pas  conduit  en- 


vers  luy  par  cy-dcvans  comme  il  dc- 
A'oit ;  mais  il  fera  tant  cy-apres  qu'il 
reparerii  les  faultes  passi'is."  Letter 
of  Jean  Gros,  secretary  of  the  count 
of  C'liaroluis, October  15, Doc.  ined., 
Melanges,  torn.  ii.  p.  397. 

**  "  Mcsseigneurs,  vous  et  moy 
sommes  au  Roy  mon  souverain  Sei- 
gneur qui  cy  est  present,  pour  le  ser- 
vir  toutes  les  fois  que  niestier  en 
aura."  Ue  Troyes,  Lenglet,  torn.  iv. 
p.  49. 


320 


WAll  OF  TlIE  PUBLIC  WEAL. 


[nooK  I. 


Picjirdv;  tlio  count  of  Saint-Pol  took  the  oiitlis  as 
constiihlo,  and  roceivod  tlie  .sword  which  was  the 
eiiibk'ni  of  his  olHee.  Then  all  took  their  leave  of 
the  king.  The  duke  of  Brittany  set  out  for  Nor- 
mandy, taking  with  him  the  new  duke,  whose  reign 
was  to  be  inaugurated  under  his  protection.  The 
Armagnacs,  the  duke  of  Calabria,  and  the  other 
leaders,  departed  to  their  respective  homes.  The 
count  of  Charolais  was  the  last  to  be  dismissed. 
Louis  accompanied  him  on  the  first  day's  march. 
He  had  thought  of  a  mode  by  which  their  reconcilia- 
tion might  be  cemented,  their  friendship  perpetuated, 
their  intei'ests  identified.  Within  the  last  few  weeks 
Charles  luuT  received  tidings  of  the  death  of  his  wife, 
Isabella  of  Bourbon.  By  way  of  consolation  the  king 
offered  him  the  hand  of  his  own  daughter,  the  infant 
Princess  Anne.  The  province  of  Champagne  was  to 
form  a  portion  of  her  dowry.  A  treaty  to  this  efl'ect 
was  drawn  up  and  signed  at  Villiers-le-Bel.*' 

The  parting  was  now  over.  The  tide  which  had 
overwhelmed  Louis  had  rolled  away,  leaving  him  still 
a  king,  but  stripped  and  desolate  as  never  king  had 
been  before.  Such,  then,  was  the  result  of  his  stren- 
uous toils,  his  plots  and  devices,  his  efforts  to  eman- 
cipate the  crown,  to  consolidate  the  monarchy,  to 
render  his  own  authority  supreme  and  absolute.  Was 
he,  then,  disheartened?  He  had  received  a  lesson, 
and  was  diligently  pondering  its  application. 


"  CommineR,  torn.  i.  pp.  104-1  on.    torn.  iv.  p.  237.  —  Lamarche,  torn. 
-  Haj-nin,  torn.  i.  p.  54. — Uuclercq,    ii.  p.  249.  —  Lenglet,  torn.  i).  p.  543. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

I,i£gE.  —  ITS   HISTORY   AND  INSTITUTIONS.  —  REVOLUTION   VNDEB 
LOUIS   OF   nOUUBON.  — THE   "PITEOUS   PEACE." 

1466. 

The  ardor  of  the  Burgundian  cavaliers  was  in  no 
degree  diminished  by  their  late  exploits  and  the 
triumph  that  had  crowned  their  arms.  They  eage':ly 
turned  their  steps  towards  a  new  field  of  enterprise. 
They  had  humbled  the  king  of  France ;  they  were 
now  going  to  chastise  the  "  villain  people  of  Liege." ' 
Their  indefatigable  leader  allowed  them  but  a  brief 
season  for  repose.  Charles  himself  did  not  even 
deviate  from  the  direct  route  to  visit  his  father  at 
Brussels.  He  traversed  Champagne,  Hainault,  and 
the  southern  part  of  Brabant,  gathering  fresh  levies 
as  he  advanced,  and  towards  the  close  of  December 
entered  the  enemy's  territory  at  the  head  of  a  larger 
force  than  had  ever  before  been  marshalled  under 
the  standard  of  his  house. 

•  "Quant  nous  aurons  fait  icy,"  contre  ces  villains  Liegois."    Doc. 

wrote  Charles's  secretary,  Oct.  15,  Incd.,  Melanges,  torn.  ii.  p.  398. 
"  nous  irons  commencer  de  plus  belle 

VOL.  1.  41  f*») 


'M%\ 


Li 


i! 


;.'  I! 


I  MM 


h 


LIEGE. 


[boos  I. 


The  principality  of  Liege,  embracing  a  somewhat 
more  extended  territory  than  th^  present  province  of 
the  same  name,  belonged  to  that  portion  of  Belgium 
which,  though  classed  among  the  "  Low  Countries," 
was  geographically  a  region  quite  distinct  from  them. 
For  here  the  great  alluvial  basin  terminates,  and  the 
first  step  is  gained  of  thai  ascent  which,  continuing 
from  ridge  to  ridge,  from  mountain  chain  to  mountain 
chain,  culminates  o  i  last  in  the  pinnacles  of  the  Alps. 
Instead;,  therefore,  of  a  dreary  uniformily  of  sandy 
downs,  marshes,  or  moorland  wastes,  which  formed 
the  natural  features  of  the  northern  and  central  dis- 
tricts, Liege  presents  a  surface  remarkably  diversified 
and  picturesque.  Its  ranges  of  wild  and  rugged  hills, 
intersected  by  deep  ravines  and  leaping  rivulets,  and 
its  vast  forest  tracts — outlying  dom*ains  of  the  ancient 
woodimd  monarchy  of  Ardennes,  where  Saint  Hu- 
bert's shrine  still  wears  its  sylvan  trophies,  and  his 
votaries  pursue  their  quest  of  the  roebuck  and  the 
wild  boar  —  are  finely  contrasted  with  the  softer 
features  of  the  scenery,  the  valleys  and  gentler  un- 
dulations, gay  with  a  luxuriant  vegetation.  Through 
its  whole  extent  the  country  is  threaded  by  a  noble 
river, —  the  Meuse, —  which,  lower  down,  musf  creep 
with  the  joyless  current  of  age  along  the  flats  of  Hol- 
land, but  which  here  exhibits  ths  beauty,  vigor,  and 
romance  of  youth.  Sometimes  it  shoots  swiftly  past 
gigantic  limestone  clifts,  that  rise  precipitously  from 
the  water's  edge,  here  overhanging  the  stream  in 
broad  masses  or  crags  of  fantastic  shape  there  crown- 
ing themselves  with  lofty  and  isolated  peaks;  and 


I)  *, 


CHAP.  VII.]      NATUBAL  SCENERY  AND  RESOURCES. 


323 


sometimes  it  lingers  and  spreads  itself  towards  gently 
receding  slopes,  wearing  a  verdure  of  peculiar  bril- 
liancy, which,  still  rising  and  still  retreating,  gain  at 
last  a  range  of  heights  that  encompass  and  command 
a  panoramic  view. 

It  was  not,  however,  to  the  beauties  of  the  surface, 
but  to  the  treasures  beneath  it,  that  Li^ge  was  in- 
debted for  its  early  fame  and  importance.  The  soil 
is  rich  in  many  ores,  but  especially  in  iron  and  coal  j 
and  from  a  remote  period  a  swarming  and  hardy 
people  has  been  engaged  in  the  mutually  depen- 
dent labors  of  the  mine  and  the  forge.^    The  cap- 


'  According  to  the  monkish  legend, 
an  angel,  in  the  guise  of  a  venerable 
sage,  first  revealed  to  the  peasants 
the  existence  of  the  coal,  and  made 
them  acquainted  with  its  uses  and 
the  mode  of  extracting  it.  Some 
writers,  however,  have  suggested 
that  for  "  angelus "  wc  should  read 
"  Anglus  "  —  "  ce  qui  est  bicn  diffe- 
rent," remarks  M.  Dewez,  (Hist,  de 
Liege,  tom.  i.  p.  130,)  having  for- 
gotten, apparently,  the  "  Non  Angli 
sed  angeli"  of  Pope  Gregory  VII., 
and  little  anticipating  that,  a  few 
years  later,  the  industry  of  Belgium 
was  to  receive  an  extraordinary  stim- 
ulus from  the  genius  of  an  English- 
man, the  projector  of  that  network 
of  railways  by  which  the  centres  of 
population  established  on  the  line  of 
the  coal  formation  are  now  connect- 
ed with  each  other  and  with  distant 
capitals  and  outports.  (See  the  Life 
of  Stephenson.) 

If  we  may  credit  the  narrative  of 
Nicander  Nucius,  (published  by  the 


Camden  Society,)  the  colliers  at  Li- 
dge,  instead  of  being  assisted  in  their 
operations  by  supernatural  Influence, 
had  to  encounter  perils  of  a  demo- 
niacal origin.  "  When  they  meet 
with  this  mineral  they  form  a  spa- 
cious cavern  ;  but  they  are  not  able 
to  throw  out  the  stones  [i.  e.,  the 
coal]  immediately,  for  fire  on  a  sud- 
den bursts  forth  and  encompasses 
the  whole  cavern.  When  the  miners 
are  desirous  of  extracting  the  coal, 
they  put  on  a  linen  garment  which 
has  neither  been  bleached  nor  dipped 
in  water.  This  covers  the  frame  from 
head  to  foot,  leaving  only  certain 
apertures  for  the  eyes ;  .  .  .  they  also 
take  a  staff  in  their  hands.  .  .  .  The 
miner  then  draws  near  to  the  fire  and 
frightens  it  with  his  staff.  The  fire 
then  flies  away  and  contracts  by  lit- 
tle and  little ;  having  then  expended 
itself,  it  collects  together  in  a  sur- 
prising manner,  and,  becoming  very 
small,  remains  quite  still  in  a  corner. 
But  it  behoves  the  man  who  wears 


il  it 


I*  \ 


324 


Lii:aE. 


[book  I. 


ital,  —  -which  gave  its  name  to  the  principality, — 
occupying  the  base  and  slopes  of  an  amphitheatre 
of  hills  that  overlook  the  junction  of  several  tribu- 
tary streams  with  the  Meuse,  is  built  upon  the  most 
extensive  coal  tract  in  the  province.  The  miner  pur- 
sues his  explorations  under  the  foundations  of  the 
houses.  Great  foundries  have  been  erected  over 
the  mouths  of  the  pits.  Numberless  furnaces  aend 
forth  volumes  of  smoke  into  the  narrow  and  tortuous 
streets,  and  sully  with  a  murky  radiance  the  purity 
of  the  evening  sky.  Smaller  towns  and  villages  on 
every  side  present  a  similar  aspect ;  and  the  travel- 
ler, passing  by  night  through  the  valley  of  the  Meuse, 
imagines  himself  traversing  a  country  lighted  by 
volcanic  eruptions  or  by  the  devastating  flames  that 
follow  the  march  of  a  horde  of  ruthless  invaders.' 

Liege  has  a  history  of  its  own  — ^"as  picturesque  as 
its  landscapes,  as  vivacious  as  its  sparkling  river,  filled 


,.•;! 


the  linen  garment  to  stand  over  the 
flame  when  at  rest,  always  terrifying 
it  with  his  staff.  Whilst  he  performs 
this  service  the  miners  extract  the 
stones ;  but,  as  soon  as  they  have 
left  the  cave,  the  dormant  fire  on  a 
sudden  bursts  forth  and  environs 
the  whole  cave."  The  writer  —  a 
Greek  traveller  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury —  satisfied  himself  of  the  real- 
ity of  these  marvels  by  personal 
inspection. 

'  Such  is  the  description  given 
by  Victor  Hugo  of  the  approach  to 
Liege  by  night :  "  Quand  on  a  passe 
le  lieu  appele  la  Petite-Flemalle,  la 
chose  devient  inexpi-imable  et  vrai- 


ment  magnifique.  Toute  la  valine 
semble  trouee  de  crateres  en  erup- 
tion. Quelques-uns  dcgorgent  der- 
ricre  les  tailHs  des  tourbillons  de 
vapeur  ccarlate  etoilee  d'c'tincelles ; 
d'autres  dessinent  lugubrement  sur 
un  fond  rouge  la  noire  silhouette  des 
villages  ;  ailleurs  les  flammes  appa- 
raissent  ii  travers  les  crevasses  d'un 
groupe  d't'difices.  On  croirait  qu'une 
armee  ennemie  vient  de  traverser  le 
pays,  et  que  vingt  bourgs  mis  il  sac 
vous  ofitent  h,  la  fois  dans  cette  nuit 
tdnebreuse  tons  les  aspects  et  toutes 
les  phases  de  I'incendie,  ceux-lJi  em- 
brases,  ceux-ci  fumants,  les  autres 
flamboyants."  Le  Rhin,  torn.  L  let.  7. 


CHAP.  ▼II.] 


fflSTORY  AND  INSTITUTIONS. 


325 


with  passages  of  a  wild  and  startling  character  like 
the  mingled  gloom  and  glare  of  its  night  scenery. 
The  most  eventful  period  of  that  history  falls  within 
the  scope  of  the  present  work.  For  the  details  of 
an  earlier  period  we  must  refer  the  reader  to  the 
pages  of  the  native  chroniclers,  transferred  from 
which  the  narrative  would  lose  not  only  all  its  charm, 
but  half  its  meaning.* 

Ecclesiastical  states  —  a  class  of  which  the  papal 
dominions,  the  oldest  of  them  all,  offer  the  only  ex- 
isting specimen  —  owed  their  origin,  for  the  most 
part,  to  a  period  when  races  were  emerging  from 
barbarism  under  tlie  impulse  given  to  all  the  faculties 
of  man  by  a  newly  awakened  religious  sentiment; 
when  the  Church,  far  from  confining  herself  to  the 
sphere  of  spiritual  guidance  and  instruction,  took  the 
lead  in  all  progressive  movements ;  when  forests  were 
cleared  and  a  systematic  husbandry  was  practised  and 
taught  by  adventurous  bands  of  missionary  monks ; 
when  the  convent  or  the  martyr's  shrine  gave  birth 
to  a  town  that  grew  and  flourished  under  the  guar- 
dianship of  its  tutelary  saint. 

Such  was  the  origin  of  Liege.  The  Church  became 
early  enamoured  of  these  wild  hills  and  lovely  valleys, 


*  Few  of  the  earlier  chroniclers  of 
Lidge  have  yet  found  their  way  into 
print.  Jacques  de  Hetnricourt  — 
wliose  "  Miroir  des  Nobles  de  Hes- 
baye  "  is  probably  the  finest  as  well 
as  the  best  known  —  was  also  the 
author  of  a  valuable  treatise,  "  Li 
Patron  delle  Temporaliteit,"  from 


which  our  account  of  the  polity  of 
Liege  has  been  chiefly  derived. 
Among  the  modern  authors  to  whom 
we  have  been  indebted  are  Dewez, 
Gerlache,  Bovy,  and  especially  Po- 
loin  (who  has  made  many  citations 
from  the  original  sources)  and  Vil> 
lenfngne. 


326 


LIEOE. 


[book  I, 


n 


Ih 


and  took  them  under  her  own  protection.  Numerous 
convents  —  oases  of  civilization  in  the  midst  of  a 
world  of  barbarism  —  were  planted  in  the  lonely 
depths  of  the  Ardennes.  The  capital  owed  its  exist- 
ence to  the  tomb  of  Saint  Lambert,  visited  at  first  by 
crowds  of  pilgrims,  and  in  time  surroinided  by  a  fixed 
population,  which  found  in  the  a3gis  of  the  sanctu- 
ary and  in  the  resources  of  the  soil  the  means  of 
social  enfranchisement,  the  elements  of  material  pros- 
perity, and  the  basis  of  political  rights.  The  modest 
chapel  that  enshrined  the  saint's  remains  grew  into 
a  noble  temple.  Liege  became  the  head  of  a  bish- 
opric, iue  chapter  of  Saint  Lambert's,  represented 
by  the  bishop,  was  the  "  natural  lord  "  —  to  use  the 
expressive  phrase  of  feudal  times  —  of  the  land  and 
the  inhaljitants ;  and,  by  successive  imperial  grants, 
it  added  to  its  original  domain  several  counties  and 
seigniories  lying  on  both  banks  of  the  Meuse.* 


*  Tlie  great  name  in  the  early  his- 
tory of  Liege  is  that  of  Notger,  or 
Notker,  a  bishop  of  the  tenth  centu- 
ry, to  wL^m  the  see  was  chiefly  in- 
debted for  its  temporal  aggrandize- 
ment. By  his  skill  in  diplomacy  he 
was  enabled  to  obtain  great  conces- 
sions from  the  emperor,  while  his 
mingled  craft  and  boldness  made 
him  the  terror  of  the  lawless  nobles, 
Avhom  he  succeeded  in  reducing  to 
complete  subjection.  One  of  his 
most  powerful  vassals,  Radus  des 
Prez,  whose  castle  occupied  the  sum- 
mit of  a  hill  overlooking  the  capital, 
was  invited  to  accompany  Notger  on 
a  visit  to  the  imperial  court.    When 


they  were  approaching  Lic'ge,  on 
their  return,  Radus  suddenly  diew 
rein,  rubbed  liis  eyes,  and  then 
remained  mute  wth  astonishment. 
"What  is  u.iiis8,  fair  cousin?"  in- 
quired the  bishop,  with  a  demure, 
sidelong  glance  at  his  companion. 
"  By  my  faith.  Sir  Bishop,"  exclaimed 
the  amazed  baron,  "  I  know  not 
whether  I  am  awake  or  dreaming. 
Methought  a  castle  of  mine  stood 
on  yonder  height ;  but  now  I  see 
there  not  a  castle,  but  a  church." 
'•  Be  not  troubled,  fair  cousin,"  re- 
plied Notger ;  "  it  is  true  that  by 
my  orders  your  castle  has  been  de- 
molished, and  a  church  erected  in 


CHAP.  Til.] 


HISTORY  AND  INSTTTUTIONS. 


327 


Armed  with  spiritual  as  well  as  temporal  authority, 
the  government  of  Li6ge  exercised  a  certain  restraint 
over  the  barbarous  and  warliks  chiefs  whose  grim 
abodes  were  perched  on  all  the  rocky  pinnacles  of 
the  country,  and  whose  violent  feuds  cast  a  sombre 
light  on  the  earlier  pages  of  its  annals.  It  was  im- 
possible to  abolish  altogether  the  right  of  private  war 
claimed  universally  by  the  nobles ;  but  this  right  was 
at  least  subject  to  restrictions  strong<;r  thuP  existed 
elsewhere.  If  it  was  permitted  to  fcVay  an  enemy, 
it  was  forbidden  to  burn  his  house,  to  devastate 
his  fields,  or  to  exterminate  his  family.  The  bishop 
could  proclaim  a  truce  of  forty  days.  If  the  truce 
were  infringed,  or  the  limits  of  allowed  barbarity 
exceeded,  those  who  had  cause  of  complaint  appeared 
Ijefore  the  episcopal  palace,  struck  upon  a  massive 
brazen  ring  suspended  at  the  portal,  and,  the  sum- 
mons being  answered,  announced  the  acts  of  violence 
that  had  been  committed,  and  requested  that  "my 
lord  of  Liege  "  would  appoint  a  day  to  sit  in  his  "  Tri- 
l)unal  of  the  Peace."  Before  this  tribunal  the  most 
powerful  offender,  when  summoned,  dared  not  fail  to 
appear ;  for  among  the  penalties  he  would  incur 
was  one  from  which  there  was  no  escape  and  against 
which  there  was  no  defence  —  the  dreaded  sentence 
of  excommunication. 

Long  before  the  period  of  our  history,  however, 
these  fires  of  feudal  warfare  had  burned  themselves 
out.    There  was  now  no  part  of  Europe  where  the 


I! 

1  -i 


'« 


::1 


its  place.     But  what  of  that  ?    My    beyond  the  Mouse,  which  he  shall 
cousin  Robert  has  a  fair  lordship    bestow  upon  you  as  an  indemnity." 


j  I 


328 


LIEGE. 


[book  I, 


privileges  of  the  nobles  were  so  scanty,  their  power 
so  weakened,  their  haughty  spirit  so  completely  bro- 
ken. Placed  between  a  government  that  invoked 
against  them  the  terrors  of  religion  and  a  people 
inflamed  by  the  pursuit  of  freedom,  they  had  found 
it  impossible  to  maintam  their  independence  of  the 
one  or  their  dominion  over  the  other.  The  chapter 
and  the  people  had  made  common  cause  against  them; 
and  the  long  struggle  had  terminated  in  the  begin- 
ning of  the  fourteenth  century,  when,  after  a  murder- 
ous conflict  waged  at  night  in  the  steep  and  narrow 
streets  of  the  capital,  illumined  by  the  fitful  glare 
of  torches,  the  infuriated  populace  set  fire  to  a  church 
in  which  more  than  three  hundred  patricians,  the 
survivors  of  their  party,  had  taken  refuge,  and  thrust 
back  their  victims  into  the  flames  as  often  as  they 
endeavored  to  escape,  until  all  were'crushed  beneath 
the  ruins.® 

Thus  there  existed  at  Liege  in  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury a  state  of  things  quite  pecuhar  in  the  history 
of  that  period.  The  nobles  —  elsewhere  the  pre- 
dominant class  —  were  gone,  or  reduced  to  impotence. 
The  aristocratical  element  might  be  said  to  have  dis- 
appeared from  the  poL'tical  system.  For  we  find 
here  few  traces  of  that  burgher  aristocracy  —  the 
enjoyment  of  exclusive  privileges  by  the  wealthier 
classes  and  great  corporations,  and  the  monopoly  of 
the  municipal  government  in  the  hands  of  a  few  — 


•  A  spirited  nccount  of  the  "  Mai    rence,  is  given  by  Polain  in  his  Ed- 
Saint-Martin,"   as  this    event  was    cits  historiques,  pp.  95-125. 
called  from  the  date  of  its  occur- 


CHAf .  VII>] 


HISTORY  AND  INSTmJTIONS. 


329 


which  generally  characterized  the  communes  of  Flan- 
ders as  well  as  those  of  Germany.  On  the  contrary, 
a  complete,  an  almost  startling,  equality  existed.  The 
smaller  guilds  had  an  equal  voice  with  the  greater. 
The  artisan  was  on  a  level  with  the  merchant  and 
the  capitalist.  The  apprentice  voted  as  well  as  the 
master.  The  municipal  government  was  renewed 
yearly,  and  all  native-born  or  naturalized  citizens 
above  the  age  of  fifteen  had  the  right  of  suffrage 
and  were  eligible  to  office. 

What  may,  perhaps,  be  considered  as  still  more 
remarkable  was  the  development  of  the  principles 
of  constitutional  government  exhibited  in  the  gen- 
eral institutions  of  the  country.  The  bishop  —  elect- 
ed by  the  chapter  or  nominated  by  the  pope  — 
exercised  powers  which  were  strictly  defined  and  <* 
limited.  The  quintessence  of  the  constitution  was 
expressed  in  a  single  phrase :  "  A  prince  of  Li^ge 
makes  no  change  in  the  laws  without  the  consent 
of  the  estates,  and  administers  justice  only  by  the 
regular  tribunals."  The  decrees  of  the  sovereign 
were  countersigned  by  responsible  n)inisters.  When 
his  prerogatives  conflicted  with  the  popular  fran- 
chises, the  question  was  submitted  to  the  echevins,  or 
superior  judges,  who  gave  their  opinions  after  consult- 
ing the  various  charters  which  formed  the  basis  of 
the  political  system,  and  which  were  therefore  in  no 
danger  of  becoming  obsolete.  A  permanent  commit- 
tee of  the  three  orders  —  called,  from  the  number  of 
its  members,  "the  Twenty-two"  —  watched  over  the 
conduct  of  the  executive  and  the  administration  of 


'  Ji 


VOL.  I. 


42 


830 


LIEOE. 


[book  I. 


I') 

i'i 


! 


H 


i 


!#'' 
>'$ 


the  laws,  and  received  an  appeal  from  the  meanest 
citizen  who  felt  himself  aggrieved.  Hence  a  pro- 
verbial saying,  —  to  which  there  is  a  corresponding 
phrase  in  English,  —  "The  poor  man  in  his  own 
house  is  king." 

A  constitution  so  closely  resembling  the  present 
idea  of  a  perfect  political  system  has  naturally  at- 
tracted admiration  from  those  who  in  recent  times 
have  examined  its  features.  But  writers  of  a  former 
period,  familiar  with  its  actual  workings,  have  left 
not  a  single  word  in  praise  of  it.  It  wanted  the  one 
element  which  was  wanting  in  all  the  constitutions 
of  the  Middle  Ages  —  stability.  Nowhere,  in  those 
ages,  do  we  find  a  government  exercising  its  pre- 
rogatives and  a  people  exercising  its  franchises  in 
'*  that  spirit  of  mutual  forbearance  and  of  self-restraint 
without  which  no  safeguards  or  restrictions  have 
any  vital  force.  The  different  powers  of  the  state 
were  always  in  conflict.  No  sacrifices  were  wil- 
lingly made  to  avert  a  collision;  no  reliance  was 
placed  upon  a  dormant  strength.  In  general,  the 
first  appeal  was  to  the  iiUima  ratio;  and  civil  war 
might  almost  be  considered  as  the  normal  condition 
of  society. 

Moreover,  in  the  principality  of  Li^ge  the  consti- 
tution, whatever  might  be  its  theoretical  excellence, 
was  practically  set  aside  by  the  vast  privileges  and 
democratic  organization  of  the  communes.  Here,  in 
a  greater  degree  than  even  in  other  parts  of  Bel- 
gium, the  towns  absorbed  all  the  nutritive  elements 
of  the  body  politic.    The  estates,  enfeebled  by  the 


pro- 


OBAT .  TXI.] 


mSTOKir  AND  INSTITUTIONS. 


331 


virtual  extinction  of  the  nobility,  ceased  to  exercise 
any  influence  and  to  hold  the  balance  of  power  when 
disputes  had  arisen  between  the  prince  and  the  peo- 
ple. Frequent  elections,  the  struggles  of  parties,  the 
manoeuvres  of  rival  demagogues,  and  the  turbulent 
spirit  of  the  masses,  kept  the  capital,  and  to  a  less 
extent  the  other  principal  towns,  in  a  state  of  per- 
petual agitation.' 

Yet  sweet  is  the  air  of  freedom  even  in  its  storms. 
Ii%e,  in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  was  one 


'  "  Tout  chu  a^-ient,"  says  Hemri- 
court,  after  describing  the  fiequcnt 
convulsions  to  which  the  country 
was  subject,  "  par  ly  movais  et  in- 
discreit  regiment  del  citeit  de  Liege, 
. .  .  laqueil  citeit  est  case  de  tous  les 
nials  avenus  en  pays  a  men  temps, 
et  par  quattre  poincts  tant  sculement 
quy  sieroicnt  legiers  a  remedier  si  ly 
comon  peuple  nastoit  sy  fort  obsti- 
neis  et  aveuleis."  The  four  points 
wliich  he  enumerates  are,  Ist.  The 
excessive  size  of  the  council,  com- 
jjosed  of  more  than  two  hundred 
jjcrsons,  where  twenty  would  regu- 
late the  affairs  c^  '.he  city  far  more 
efficiently  —  "  car  multitude  engen- 
dre  confusion."  2dly.  The  equal 
voice  granted  to  the  smallest  and 
least  important  guild  with  the  great- 
est, when  all  were  assembled  to  vote 
upon  a  question  submitted  by  the 
council  for  the  decision  of  the  peo- 
ple. 3dly.  The  concession  of  the 
suffrage  to  the  meanest  class  of  the 
inhabitants,  and  even  to  those  who 
were  not  of  an  age,  or  in  a  position, 
to  manage  their  own  private  affairs  ; 
—  "  Ly  garchons  servants  et  ly  ap- 


prcndiches  ont  aultretant  de  voix  en 
le  syette  faisant,  comrae  ont  ly  mais- 
tres  et  ly  chief  dosteit."  4thly.  The 
practice  of  admitting  foreigners  who 
took  up  their  residence  at  Liege  to 
the  rights  of  citizensliip. 

Hemricourt,  however,  wished  to 
see  established,  in  place  cf  this  sys- 
tem, a  purely  theocratic  govern- 
ment by  tlie  Church.  "Would  to 
God,"  he  exclaims,  "  that  the  people 
would  consent  to  yield  that  reverence 
which  reason  teaches  is  their  due  to 
the  venerable  clergy,  adorned  with 
all  the  faculties  of  science !  ITie 
Church  is  the  fountain  from  which 
we  imbibe  knowledge,  the  pasture 
on  which  we  are  fed  even  as  sheep, 
the  mother  to  whom  we  have  re- 
course in  all  oxxt  distresses,"  And 
he  reminds  his  countrjinen  that  they 
are  indebted  to  the  clergy  not  only 
for  spiritual  food,  but  also  iit  a  great 
measure  for  the  supply  of  their  tem- 
poral wants  —  the  larger  portion  of 
the  land  being  held  in  mortmain.  Li 
Patron  delle  Temporaliteit,  printed 
by  Polain  at  the  end  of  the  second 
volume  of  his  Ilist.  de  Li('ge. 


I 


Hi' 

■  ■    i-  i 


I' 


It  I. 


Ill 
II 


S32 


iji:oE. 


[book  I. 


of  the  most  thriving  cities  in  Europe.  Tlie  number  of 
its  inhabitants  was  reckoned  at  over  a  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand.  Its  workshops  resounded  with  the 
clang  of  labor.  Its  streets  were  filled  with  the  bustle 
of  trade.  It  had  commercial  treaties  not  only  wi^h 
the  towns  on  the  Rhine,  but  with  distant  countries. 
As  the  privileges  of  citizenship  were  granted  to  for- 
eigners on  easy  terms,  Liege,  contrary  to  what  was 
usual  at  tliis  period,  received  a  constant  infusion  of 
new  blood-  — enjoyed,  as  it  were,  a  perpetual  reno- 
vation.* 

Yet  the  c  ty  had  not  lost  the  stamp  of  its  sacred 
origui.  It  was  still "  the  daughter  of  Rome,"  renowned 
for  the  number  and  the  beauty  of  its  churches,  and 
for  the  pomp  with  wliich  the  sacred  offices  were  daily 
performed  within  its  walls.^  The  cathedral  —  dedi- 
cated to  the  saint  whose  blood  had  sanctified  its  site 
—  was  regarded  with  especial  pride  as  the  nucleus 
of  the  city  and  the  most  splendid  of  its  monuments. 
Its  vast  cloisters  had  afforded  an  asylum  to  num- 
berless fugitives  from  feudal  tyranny.  Its  richly 
deconited  shrines  w'ere  the  repositories  of  a  costly 
treasure  accumulated  by  the  pious  offerings  of  many 
generations.  Its  canons,  sixty  in  number,  —  called, 
from  their  vested  rights  as  sovereign  proprietors  of 
the  soil,  cJianoines  trefomerSy  —  were  all  persons  of 


*  "  Nog  prendons,"  complains 
Hemricourt,  "  afforains  borgois  sans 
nombre  et  les  volons  affranchier." 
It  is  throwing  penrls,  he  says,  before 
swine. 


'  Guicciardini,  Belgicte  Descrip- 
tio,  p,  497.  —  Excerpta  ex  Commen- 
tariis  Jacob!  Piccolominei,  De  Ram, 
Analecta  Leodiensia,  p.  382. —  Corn- 
mines,  torn.  i.  p.  196. 


'^. 


CHAP.  VII.] 


raSTORY  AND  mSTITUTIONS. 


333 


illustrious  birth,  and  many  of  them  of  royal  descent.*" 
Above  the  high  altar  was  suspended  the  consecrated . 
standard  of  Saint  Lambert,  which,  on  the  outbreak 
of  hostilities  with  a  foreign  power,  was  carried  by  the 
clergy  in  solemn  procession  to  the  door  of  the  church, 
unfurled  in  the  presence  of  the  people,  ond  delivered 
to  the  commander  of  the  forces,  who,  mounted  on  a 
milk-white  charger,  and  surrounded  by  a  troop  of 
knights,  received  the  precious  charge,  and  swore  to 
surrender  it  only  with  his  life." 

At  a  little  distance  from  the  cathedral  was  the 
Violet,  or  city  hall,  where  the  burgomasters  and  coun- 
cil assembled  for  deliberation,  and  from  which,  in 
times  of  excitement,  the  party  leaders  harangued  the 
populace  assembled  in  the  square  below.  In  the 
centre  of  the  square,  on  a  pedestal  of  several  steps, 
stood  a  pillar  of  gilded  bronze  —  its  top  representing 
a  pineapple  surmounted  by  a  cross.  The  Perron  — 
regarded  as  an  emblem  of  the  civic  organization 
crowned  with  spiritual  sovereignty  —  was  an  object 
of  patriotic  reverence  and  affection.  In  front  of  it 
were  read  the  ordinances  issued  by  the  magistrates, 
as  well  as  the  decrees  fulminated  by  the  people  in 
general  assembly  when  their  privileges  were  endan- 
gered or  had  been  violated.  On  these  occasions  the 
tocsin  was  rung;  the  deans  of  the  guilds  hastened 

'"  In  the  year  1145  the  chapter  Hajiiin,  torn.  ii.  pp.  148-151.   Sim- 
was  composed  of"  nine  sons  of  kings,  ilar  lists  are  mentioned  by  Ernst, 
fourteen  sons  of  dukes,  thirty  sons  Lavallaye,  &c. 
of  counts,  and  seven  sons  of  bar-  "    Villenfagne,    Recherches   sur 
ons."    The  list  of  names  is  given  in  I'Hist.  de  Liege,  torn.  i.  p.  428. 


♦ 


'I     't  ■'  *■■'**■ 


334 


Lli^OE. 


[boov  I, 


with  their  respective  banners  to  the  March6,  and 
.  planted  them  beside  the  Perron;  the  people  followed, 
pouring  from  forge,  workshoj),  and  factory,  until  the 
square  was  filled  with  grimed  ami  athletic  figures, 
and  the  confused  shouts  of  the  multitude  echoed 
through  the  vaulted  cloisters  of  Saint  Liunbert's,  and 
rose  like  the  murmurs  of  an  angry  sea  around  its 
lofty  spires. 

What  means,  on  the  other  hand,  had  the  govern- 
ment of  enforcing  its  will  or  resisting  the  action  of 
the  people  ?  It  had,  of  course,  no  regular  army  in  its 
pay,  and  its  feudal  vassals  were  scanty  in  number 
and  impoverished.  Nevertheless  there  were  at  its 
command  two  powerful  engines  of  oppression  or  de- 
fence. In  the  first  place,  the  bishop  was  the  "  foun- 
^  ■  tain  of  law."  The  echmns,  or  judges,  assembled  and 
sat  only  on  the  summons  and  in  the  presence  of 
his  officer,  the  grand-mayor.  At  the  command  of 
the  bishop  the  mayor  lowered  his  wand  of  office  — 
the  law  was  suspended.  The  municipal  magistrates 
might  still  administer  justice  in  civil  suits  between 
the  burghers.  But  there  was  no  longer  any  court 
for  the  trial  of  offences  against  life  or  property,  any 
power  to  punish  crime  or  even  to  arrest  the  criminal. 
The  elementary  principles  of  an  organized  society 
were  in  abeyance." 


•*  It  may  be  thought  that  tribu- 
nals improvised  by  the  people  would 
have  taken  the  place  of  those  M'hich 
had  ceased  to  act.  But  this  is  to 
mistake  the  character  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  when  constant  turbulence  and 


a  frequent  resort  to  force  were  unit- 
ed with  a  punctilious  regard  for  IcgiJ 
technicalities.  Oppression  and  revolt 
were  necessary  alternations  where 
there  was  nothing  to  preser\'e  the 
equilibrium.    Witliin  certain  limits 


CBAT.  Til.] 


HISTORY  AND  IXSTTTUTIOXS. 


335 


But  the  chief  Htrength  of  the  government  was 
derived  from  the  naered  attributes  of  tlie  prince. 
"Wlien  his  temporal  authority  had  been  resisted  he 
had  recourse  to  his  spiritual  functions.  Tie  issued  an 
interdict  suspending  the  celebration  of  all  religious 
rites.  The  blight  of  an  awful  curse  then  fell  upon 
the  contumacious  people.    The  bells,  that  with  cheer- 


insurrection  for  the  purpose  of  restor- 
ing a  violated  compact  was  a  right, 
Konietiines  —  ns  in  Castillo  and  in 
Tirabunt  —  expressly  recognized  by 
charters,  always  implied  by  the  very 
nature  of  the  feudal  tie.  In  Liege 
it  was  provided  that  the  people, 
when  "  in  debate  "  or  at  open  war 
with  tiie  prince,  might  elect  a  mam- 
boiir,  or  guardian,  who  was  to  as- 
sume the  reins  of  government  with 
the  specific  object  of  j)rotecting  the 
country  against  invasion  —  fnmi  be- 
coming, through  its  internal  dissen- 
sions, the  prey  of  a  foreign  enemy. 
Hut  for  this  regent  to  have  created 
any  otiice  or  made  any  appointment 
in  connection  with  the  administra- 
tion of  justice  would  have  been  a 
gross  usm'pation  of  the  prerogatives 
(if  the  prince.  Violence,  of  course, 
was  met  by  violence.  The  individ- 
ual might  defend  himself ;  the  peo- 
ple might  wreak  vengeance  on  a 
traitor.  But  such  proceedings  were 
felt  to  be  lawless  and  anarchical. 
Could  the  regular  judges  have  been 
compelled  to  execute  the  law,  their 
decrees  would  doubtless  have  been 
considered  valid,  just  as  the  sacra- 
ments of  the  Church  celebrated  by 
a  priest  under  compulsion  retained 
all  their  efficacy.  But  a  sentence 
passed  or  executed  by  officers  irreg- 


ularly appointed  would  have  had  as 
little  virtue,  so  far  as  the  public  con- 
science was  concerned,  as  a  mass 
performed  by  a  layman.  The  re- 
marks of  Hemricourt  on  the  elec- 
tion and  functions  of  the  mambotir 
indicate  the  limits  of  what  may  be 
termed  a  legal  revolt.  '■  >Se  ie  pays 
at  debat  ou  Merre  overte  a  son 
saingnor,  les  bonnes  vilhes  avecque 
le  remanant  de  pays  puelent  bin,  de 
greit  et  conseilh  de  cai)itle  sil  rema- 
nc  avecque  eauz,  ou  sains  ledit  capi- 
tle,  sil  est  avecque  le  saingnor,  faire 
et  enlke  un  capitaine  et  un  condui- 
ficur,  appelleis  a  chu  barons  chevali- 
ers et  escuwyers  de  pays,  et  par  leur 
accorde  et  conseilh,  qui  en  tos  estats 
de  werre  les  governeroit  et  condu- 
roit,  et  nlqueil  ilz  aroyent  recours 
comme  a  leur  soverain  en  cely  cas  j 
nequident  che  cajjitaine  ou  mambor, 
se  mambor  le  voloycnt  appellcir,  ne 
poroit  estre  tant  previlcgiet  de  capi- 
tle  ne  de  remanant  de  tout  le  pays, 
tant  quil  y  awist  eveske,  quil  powist 
mettre  nul  offichien  ne  donneir  nul 
offiche  al  loy  appartenant,  car  rien 
ne  poroit  faire  encontre  le  saingnor 
en  cely  cas  ne  en  nul  aultre  tochant 
le  loy,  se  ce  nestoit  violeement  et  de 
forche,  liqueille  violenche  ly  loy  ne 
puet  consentir."  Li  Patron  delle 
Temporaliteit. 


%«^ 


336 


JJ^OE. 


[book  I. 


ful  carillons  had  proclaimed  from  every  spire  the  pas- 
sage of  the  hours,  each  linked  with  its  appropriate 
act  or  feeling  of  devotion,  were  silenced.  The 
churches  —  ever  open,  not  only  to  the  throng  that 
attended  at  stated  periods,  but  to  the  solitary  wor- 
shipper who  stepped  aside  from  the  bustle  of  the 
world  to  pray  and  meditate  amid  the  sculptured  sym- 
bols of  his  faith  —  were  closed.  The  chancel  no 
longer  echoed  the  swelling  chant  of  the  priest ;  the 
confessional  no  longer  received  the  whisper  of  tlie 
penitent.  There  was  no  baptism  for  the  infant,  no 
sacramental  marriage  for  the  betrothed,  no  unction 
for  the  dying,  no  Christian  burial  for  the  dead. 

Thus  physical  force  was  balanced  by  moral  fear. 
On  the  one  side  was  a  government  that  maintained 
ik  itself  in  the  exercise  of  its  authority  by  the  spiritual 
weapons  at  its  command;  on  the  other,  a  people 
accustomed  to  shrink  with  dread  before  the  censures 
of  the  Church,  yet  accustomed  also  to  struggle  per- 
tinaciously with  the  power  by  which  these  censures 
were  wielded  and  put  in  force. 

Had  no  extraneous  influences  interfered  with  the 
adjustment  of  this  balance,  the  oscillations  would  in 
time  have  become  less  violent.  But  Liege  belonged 
to  a  group  of  petty  states,  each  originally  independent 
of  the  others,  but  exposed  by  its  weakness  and  its 
situation  to  foreign  interference.  Tlie  beginning  of 
the  fifteentli  century  was  an  important  epoch  in  the 
history  of  the  Netherlands.  The  house  of  Burgundy, 
having  rooted  itself  there, —  having  acquired  by  mar- 
riage Flanders  and  Artois,  —  extended  its  sway  over 


CHAP.  VII.] 


HISTORY  AND  mSTITUTIONS. 


337 


the  other  provinces,  gaining  one  by  conquest,  another 
by  purchase,  a  third  by  descent, —  a  contingency  skil- 
fully prepared  for  by  the  alliances  which  it  had  formed, 
—  until  the  geographical  integrity  of  its  dominions 
in  this  quarter  was  broken  only  by  the  independence 
of  a  single  state.  The  peculiar  character  of  its  insti- 
tutions saved  Liege  from  the  fate  of  the  neighboring 
territories.  The  government  was  not  hereditary,  and 
could  not  therefore  pass  by  succession  to  a  foreign 
prince.  It  was  an  ecclesiastical  domain,  and  could 
not  therefore  be  ruled  by  a  layman.  Its  conquest 
and  secularization  were  forbidden  by  the  law  of 
Christendom,  by  the  inviolable  sanctity  of  every 
right  on  which  the  Church  had  placed  its  seal. 

Yet  it  mattered  little  for  Liege  that  it  might  not 
be  devoured  by  the  monster  that  lay  coiled  around 
it,  since  it  was  at  least  certain  to  be  strangled  by  its 
folds.  It  first  awakened  to  a  partial  consciousness  of 
its  new  position  in  the  year  1408,  when  the  bishop, 
John  of  Bavaria,  being  "in  debate"  with  his  people, 
appealed  for  assistance  to  his  kinsman  John  the 
Fearless,  duke  of  Burgundy.  This  was  at  the  mo- 
ment when  the  latLor  prince,  having  collected  an 
army,  had  entered  France  to  justify  the  murder  of 
Louis  of  Orleans  and  to  assert  his  claims  to  the 
regency.  The  occasion  was  an  opportune  one  for 
making  a  display  of  his  power.  He  returned  for  a 
brief  period  to  the  Netherlands,  mustered  all  his 
forces,  and,  entering  the  territory  of  Liege,  was  en- 
countered on  the  plains  of  Othee  by  the  militia  of 
the  towns,  numerous,  indeed,  and  brave,  but  accus- 

VOL.  I.  43 


^#' 


If 


U  jfii 


1 


!  '■ 


338 


u£:oE. 


[book  1. 


tomed  only  to  the  irregular  warfare  of  border  forays, 
and  wholly  ignorant  of  military  operations  on  a  larger 
scale.  A  letter  is  still  extant,  written  by  the  duke 
himself  two  days  after  the  battle,  in  which  he  vaunts 
the  slaughter  of  " twenty-five  or  twenty-six  thousand" 
undisciplined  and  indifferently  armed  men,  but "  as 
courageous  and  enduring  as  any  that  were  ever  seen," 
his  own  loss  amounting  to  "  between  sixty  and  four- 
score knights  and  squires,"  and  the  whole  time  occu- 
pied by  the  conflict  being  an  hour  and  a  half"  This 
defeat  of  the  people  of  Liege  was  followed  by  their 
immediate  submission.  They  made  a  treaty  which, 
besides  other  degrading  conditions,  bound  them  to 
the  payment  of  an  enormous  fine  to  the  victor.  The 
bishop  returned  to  his  capital,  and  earned  for  himself, 
by  the  barbarity  with  which  he  punished  the  revolt, 
a  cognomen  even  more  distinctive  and  emphatic  than 
that  of  his  ally.  He  is  known  in  history  as  '■'  John 
the  Pitiless." 

During  a  long  period  that  followed,  while  France 
was  desolated  by  a  civil  war  first  kindled  by  the  am- 
jjition  of  the  house  of  Burgundy,  the  possessions  of 
that  house  were  greatly  enlarged,  and  its  power  rap- 
idly increased.  Yet  this  seemed  rather  the  effect  of 
a  natural  law  of  aggrandizement  than  of  a  thirst  for 
conquest.  Philip  the  Good  availed  himself  of  such 
opportunities  as  offered  for  enlarging  the  circle  of  his 
dominions ;  but  he  was  not  driven  by  a  restless  ombi- 
tion  to  engage  in  continual  wars.     Liege  forgot  the 

"  Lettre  de  Jean,  due  de  Bour-    son  frfere,  Gachard,  Analectes  Bel- 
gognc,  II  Antoinc,  due  de  Brabant,    giques,  pp.  2-6. 


CHAP,  vn.] 


lUSTORY  AND  INSTITUTIONS. 


330 


stem  lesson  it  had  received;  it  continued  to  have 
"debates"  with  its  bishop  and  predatory  wars  with 
its  neighbors,  heedless  of  the  provocation  it  thus 
gave  to  the  most  potent  prince  in  Christendom. 

Gradually,  however,  almost  insensibly,  its  energies 
were  becoming  paralyzed.  The  union  of  the  Neth- 
prlands  under  a  single  head  gave  a  fresh  stimulus  to 
their  industry  and  widened  the  avenues  of  their  com- 
merce. From  these  advantages  Liege  was  excluded. 
It  Avas  forced  to  compete  with  rivals  who  were  better 
protected  than  itself,  and  who  enjoyed  greater  facili- 
ties in  seeking  a  market  for  their  productions.  It 
lay  in  the  shadow  while  brighter  rays  of  prosperity 
had  fliUen  upon  them. 

Politically,  too,  its  condition  had  changed.  The 
people  might  maintain  its  privileges,  but  the  prince 
had  lost  his  independence.  If  Philip  could  not  him- 
self mount  the  episcopal  throne  and  add  to  his  other 
titles  that  of  bishop  of  Liege,  he  could  at  least,  by  his 
influence  with  the  pope,  obtain  the  appointment  for 
one  of  his  favorites  or  for  a  member  of  his  family. 
Virtually  the  see  had  become  a  benefice  at  his  dis- 
posal. 

In  1456,  having  extorted  the  resignation  of  the 
reigning  bishop,  John  of  Heinsberg,  —  whose  easy 
temper  and  winning  manners  had  rendered  him  pop- 
ular with  his  subjects,  but  whose  excessive  partiality 
for  festive,  and  especially  female,  society  had  led  him 
to  take  up  his  residence  at  the  Burgundian  court,'* — 

"  Heinsberg  is  deRcribed  by  a  gnour  qui  cent  ans  devant  luy  n'avoit 
contemporary  chronicler  as  •'  ly  san-    eut  evesque  en  chis  pays  qui  fust  si 


i\ 


m 


i: 


340 


LIEGE. 


: 


M 


ll;: 

■I 


[book  I. 


m 


'1  ■', 

;; : » 

illB 

.liaMBp! 

ni^HEHj!'    : 

;i     H 

1       :^^V 

^H: 

i 

1 

j 

fi 

1 

Philip  procured  the  nomination  of  his  nephew,  Louis 
of  Bourbon.  At  these  events  the  people  were  struck 
with  stupor.  They  foresaw  the  termination  of  a  his- 
tory which  they  had  been  wont  to  consider  glorious. 
Their  prince  had  become  the  parasite  of  a  foreign 
sovereign,  and  existed  only  by  his  sufferance.  "It 
were  better,"  they  exclaimed,  "that  we  should  all 
become  Burgundians  together."  ^^ 

The  new  bishop  was  eighteen  years  of  age,  and 
had  not  yet  completed  his  studies  at  the  University 
of  Louvain.  He  could  not  be  admitted  to  holy  or- 
ders, but  he  had  obtained  a  papal  dispensation  ena- 
bling him  to  exercise  the  tempoial  functions  of  his 
office.  Attired  in  a  gay  scarlet  dress  and  plumed 
"Burgundian  cap,"  and  escorted  by  a  troop  of  Flemish 


gracieax  ou  si  subtilhc  de  lui  en  ac- 
querant  or  et  argent  a  ses  bonnes 
vilhes  et  ses  subjets  par  honneur. . . . 
II  amoit  et  hantoit  amoreusement 
damoyselles."  Like  his  famous  pred- 
ecessor, Henry  of  Gurldrcs,  he  was 
the  reputed  fatlier  oi'  more  than  six- 
ty bastards.  (Jean  de  Stavelot, 
ap.  Polain,  Hist,  de  Lidge,  tom.  ii. 
p.  274,  note.)  The  last  trait  de- 
serves notice  —  not  as  extraordinary 
in  a  prelate,  (for,  though  the  celi- 
bacy of  the  clergy  was  the  source  of 
many  virtues,  chastity  could  not  be 
accovmted  one  of  them,)  but  from 
the  fact  tiiat,  in  connection  with  the 
bishop's  frequent  visits  to  the  Bur- 
gundian court  and  liis  friendship 
with  the  duchess,  it  gave  rise  to  a 
popular  suspicion  productive,  as  will 
be  seen,  of  direful  consequences. 
'*    Adriauua    de    Veteri-Busco, 


Rerum  Leodiensium  sub  Johanne 
Hcinsbergio  et  Ludovico  Borbonio 
Episcopis,  in  Marlene  et  Durand, 
Amplissima  Collectio,  (Parisiis, 
1729,)  tom.  iv.  p.  1227. 

This  collection  is  rare,  and  the  libra- 
ry of  Andover  Theological  Seminary 
is  fortunate  in  possessing  what  is 
probably  the  only  copy  to  be  found 
in  this  counti'y.  Michelct,  whose 
keen  insight  and  fervid  imagination 
are  conspicuous  in  all  that  relates  to 
liiege,  has  extracted  from  the  dry, 
but  minute  and  accurat**,  work  of 
Adrianus  —  to  the  importance  of 
which  he  was  the  first  to  call  atten- 
tion —  the  chief  material  for  the 
•  liost  brilliant  of  his  episodes.  It  is 
to  be  regretted  that  the  chronicles 
and  documents  collected  by  Tie  Ram 
appeared  too  late  to  be  submitted  to 
the  same  alembic. 


CHAP.  VII.]     REVOLUTION  UNDER  LOUIS  OF  BOURBON.        341 

cavaliers,  he  made  his  entrance  into  the  capital,  was 
inducted  and  enthroned.  His  accession  was  the  com- 
mencement of  a  prolonged  struggle  between  himself 
and  his  people,  the  termination  and  results  of  which 
alone  fall  within  the  limits  of  our  subject.  On  the 
one  hand,  Louis  of  Bourbon  —  a  mere  youth,  of  the 
most  frivolous  character,  ignorant  of  his  duties,  with 
no  capacity  for  government  —  provoked  the  nation 
by  illegal  extortions,  by  absurd  commands,  and  by 
an  open  disregard  of  the  popular  immunities.^"  No 
sooner  did  he  encounter  opposition  than  he  had  re- 
course to  the  tremendous  powers  which  even  the 
most  arbitrary  of  his  predecessors  had  appealed  to 
only  in  the  last  resort.  Quitting  the  capital,  he  re- 
tired to  Huy,  a  border  town,  where  he  plunged  into 
a  life  of  gross  sensuality,  surrounding  himself  with 
creatures  who  shared  and  pandered  to  his  appetites, 
and  whence,  with  the  recklessness  of  imbecility,  he 
sent  forth  decrees  that  had  the  effect  of  unhinging 
all  the  parts  of  the  social  fabric.^'' 

On  the  other  hand,  the  people  passed  through  the 
various  stages  of  revolution.     They  appealed  against 


"  His  proceedings  excited,  at  first, 
a  feeling  of  surprise  among  his  sub- 
jects, which  was  thus  naively  ex- 
pressed :  "  Qu'avons-nous  fait  si  tost 
a  si  joeune  homme  qui  nat  point  pas- 
sez  ung  an  qu'il  est  evesque,  et  il  est 
SI  indigne  contre  sa  cite  et  patrie  ?  " 
(Chronique  manuscrite,  cited  by  Po- 
lain,  torn.  ii.  p.  285.)  According  to 
Adrianus,  the  financial  measures  of 
the  bishop  were  received  with  de- 
rision. 


"  The  uliaracter  of  Louis  of  Bour- 
bon has  been  leniently  treated  by 
some  modem  \vriters,  —  M.  de  Ba- 
rante,  for  example,  —  taking  their 
cue  from  the  Burgundian  authori- 
ties. But  the  chroniclers  of  Liege, 
though  almost  all  of  them  ecclesias- 
tics and  far  from  friendly  to  the  pop- 
ulace, censure  the  conduct  of  the 
bishop  with  candid  severity. 


Hf' 


Is 


342 


LifcGE. 


[book  I. 


the  interdict  from  the  bishop  to  his  metropolitan,  the 
archbishop  of  Cologne ;  from  the  archbishop  to  the 
papal  legate  sent  to  decide  the  matter;  from  the 
legate  to  the  pope  in  person;  from  the  "pope  ill 
informed  to  the  pope  better  informed."  The  chapter 
and  the  wealthier  citizens  strove  to  effect  an  accom- 
modation. Failing  in  this,  they  underwent  the  usual 
fate  of  moderate  parties  in  times  of  political  disturb- 
ance; they  incurred  the  hatred  of  the  prince,  and 
they  lost  their  influence  with  the  people.  A  violent 
faction  now  obtained  the  ascendancy,  having  at  its 
head  a  noble,  but  a  noble  who,  like  all  of  his  class  in 
Liege,  could  clear  a  path  for  his  ambition  only  by  de- 
scending from  his  rank,  enrolling  himself  as  a  member 
of  one  of  the  guilds,  and  courting  the  favor  of  the 
populace.  This  person — by  namg  Raes  de  la  Riviere, 
lord  of  Heers  —  possessed  in  a  more  than  common 
degree  the  requisites  of  the  demagogue  —  fluency  of 
s})eech,  laxity  of  principle,  and  audacity  that  passed 
for  courage.  By  his  skill  in  swaying  the  popular 
assemblies  he  was  enabled  to  exercise  for  a  time  the 
authority  of  a  dictator.  But  on  this  uncertain  basis 
it  was  impossible  to  establish  any  regular  govern- 
ment. The  country  was  in  a  state  of  anarchy.  The 
sources  of  its  prosperity  were  dried  up.  Many 
thousands  of  the  inhabitants,  driven  from  the  towns 
by  poverty  or  polit'oal  proscription,  wandered  about 
gaining  a  livelihood  by  plunder,  and  at  length 
formed  themselves  into  troops,  called  "  Companions 
of  the  Green  Tent,"  because  they  made  their  retreat 


CHAP.  VII.]     REVOLUTION  UNDER  LOUIS  OF  BOURBON.        343 


in  the  forest  of  Ardennes  and  were  sheltered  by  its 
leafy  canopies.'* 

What  seemed  singular  in  all  this  was  that  Philip 
of  Burgundy  did  not  interpose  at  once  to  reduce  the 
rebellious  subjects  of  his  kinsman  and  protege  to  sub- 
mission. Openly  he  proffered  only  his  mediation. 
But  there  could  be  no  doubt  as  to  which  of  the  two 
parties  ought  to  regard  him  as  a  friend,  which  as  an 
enemy.  It  was  his  influence  —  the  influence  of  a 
powerful  prince,  the  most  devoted  son  of  the  Church, 
the  projector  of  a  crusade  against  the  Turks  — which 
had  induced  the  papal  court  to  confirm  the  interdict 
and  to  fulminate  its  censures  against  the  people. 
Whenever  Louis  of  Eourbon  was  entreated  by  the 
chapter  to  adopt  a  more  moderate  course,  he  had  but 
one  reply :  "  his  uncle  the  duke  of  Burgundy  would 
maintain  him  in  the  possession  of  his  rights." 

Isolated,  hemmed  in  on  all  sides  by  the  dominions 
of  its  real  though  as  yet  undeclaied  antagonist, 
where  could  Li^ge  look  for  a  protector  ?  It  would 
have  been  idle  for  it  to  appeal  to  its  feudal  lord  par- 
amount, the   emperor  of  Germany  —  in   name  and 


"  The  inefficiency  of  those  pro- 
Tisions  in  the  constitution  which 
have  been  most  higlily  extolled  be- 
comes apparent  in  a  situation  like 
the  present.  Some  of  the  questions 
in  dispute  were  laid  before  the  echt- 
vins,  who  rendered  a  decision  which 
neither  party  was  willing  to  accept. 
The  bishop  refused  to  convoke  the 
estates.  Not  a  word  is  said  of  the 
"  Twenty-two,"  which  some  English 


admirers  of  the  institutions  of  Lidge 
are  reported  to  have  pronounced  the 
one  thing  wanting  to  the  perfection 
of  their  own.  A  foreign  nobleman, 
Mark  of  Baden,  brother  of  the  reign- 
ing mai'grave,  was  elected  mamhour, 
but  held  the  office  as  a  mere  tool  of 
the  revolutionary  leaders,  and  de- 
serted the  country  at  the  first  ap- 
proach of  that  peril  for  which  the 
office  had  been  expressly  created. 


i ' 


344 


LIEGE. 


[book  I. 


rank  the  first  among  secular  princes,  but  in  actual 
power  one  of  the  least.  Nor  were  the  eyes  of  the 
people  turned  in  this  direction.  They  had  an  ally 
who  possessed  substantial  means  to  aid  them  —  the 
head  of  a  nation  that  be]  >nged  to  the  same  race  and 
spoke  the  same  ^  j  gr  c  as  themselves;  the  sove- 
reign, but  the  jeai.  v .  ,  uJ  secretly  hostile  sovereign, 
of  the  enemy  they  Jad  fc""  much  cause  to  dread. 
Doubtless  it  was  his  desire  to  i.void  an  open  breach 
with  the  king  of  France  that  kept  Philip  so  long  a 
quiescent  spectator  of  the  quarrel. 

The  bond  of  a  common  origin  had  been  early 
strengthened  by  commercial  treaties  permitting  a 
free  interchange  of  products  between  France  and 
Liege.  Under  Charles  the  Seventh  these  treaties 
had  been  renewed  and  extended.  So  strong  was  the 
affection  entertained  for  this  monarch  by  his  allies, 
that,  when  his  rebellious  son  had  fled  from  him  and 
taken  up  his  residence  in  Brabant,  they  talked  of 
an  expedition  for  the  purpose  of  seizing  the  prince 
and  sending  him  back  a  prisoner  to  his  father's  court. 
When,  therefore,  they  heard  of  his  accession  to  the 
crown,  they  were  not  without  fears  as  to  the  conse- 
quences. A  deputation,  however,  was  despatched  to 
Paris  to  congratulate  the  new  monarch  and  to  solicit 
his  friendship.  The  envoys,  much  to  their  surprise, 
were  received  with  an  extreme  graciousness.  The 
honor  of  knighthood  was  forced  on  one  of  their 
number,  a  simple  burgher,  who  would  fain  have  de- 
clined it.  In  the  warmth  of  their  gratitude  they 
besought  Louis  to  become  the  "  protector  "  of  Liege, 


CHAP.vii.]     REVOLUTION  UNDER  LOUIS  OF  BOURBON.        345 

and  to  this  proposal  he  readily  acceded.  The  eccle- 
siastical members  of  the  embassy,  representing  tlie 
bishop  and  chapter,  demurred,  on  the  ground  that 
they  had  not  been  empowered  to  prefer  such  a  re- 
quest. Louis  maliciously  solved  this  difficulty  by 
declaring  that  his  protection  should  not  extend  to 
the  bishop  and  chapter.^" 

In  his  early  attempt  to  narrow  the  power  of  the 
house  of  Burgundy,  and  to  cut  off  the  count  of  Cha 
rolais  from  the  means  of  thwarting  his  designs,  the 
politic  king  had  not  overlooked  the  advantages  to  be 
derived  from  a  connection  with  Liege.  With  Picardy 
redeemed  and  placed  under  the  government  of  Ne- 
vers,  the  bitter  enemy  of  Charles ;  with  Liege  stand- 
ing like  an  advanced  post,  a  hostile  fortress,  in  the 
very  midst  of  the  Burgundian  dominions ;  with  the 
adjacent  provinces  in  the  Lands  of  the  Croys,  the 
hated  favorites  of  Philip,  the  secret  agents  of  the 
king,  —  Louis  had  thought  himself  secure  from  any 
attempt  at  opposition  in  a  quarter  where  opposition 
was  most  to  be  dreaded.  How  the  barrier  was  broken 
down,  —  how  the  count  of  CharoLais  by  a  strong  and 
sudden  effort  overturned  the  Croys,  made  his  own 
authority  in  the  Netherlands  supreme,  and  headed 
the  whole  feudal  power  of  France  in  resistance  to  the 
sovereign,  —  we  have  already  seen.  When  the  War 
of  the  Pubhc  Weal  broke  out  the  agents  of  Louis 


"  "  Unde  rex  suscepit  Leodienses    prandium,  exceptis  dominis  de  capit- 
sub  sua  protectione,  exceptis  domino    ulo."    Adrianus,  Ampliss.  Col.  torn. 
^■t  capitulo.    Et  quidam  de  faniilia    ii.  p.  1249. 
regis  invitavit  omnes  Leodienses  ad 
VOL.  1.  44 


II 


9 


mm 


346 


LI^OE. 


[dook  r. 


appeared  at  Liege,  distributing  money,  promising 
succors,  and  inviting  the  towns  of  tl.e  principality  to 
enter  into  a  league  with  the  French  monarch  as  the 
certain  means  of  securing  their  own  freedom  and 
independence.  This  occurred  at  the  moment  when 
the  revolution  had  reached  its  crisis  —  when  the  in- 
terdict, which,  though  repeatedly  confirmed,  had  been 
as  often  suspended,  was  to  go  into  effect,  in  accord- 
ance with  the  terms  of  a  papal  bull  pronouncing  the 
usual  anathemas  in  case  its  provisions  were  not  com- 
plied with.  The  chapter,  after  consultation,  made 
known  the  impossibility  of  further  evasion  or  delay. 
On  the  other  hand,  Heers  and  his  followers  gave  pub- 
lic notice  that  every  priest  refusing  to  "chant"  would 
be  thrown  into  the  river.^  Many  ecclesiastics  fled 
secretly  from  the  city ;  but  they  ^ere  captured  and 
brought  back,  and  their  houses  sacked  by  the  mob. 
On  the  night  of  July  5,  1465,  few  of  the  inhabitants 


^  Protestantism  in  a  latent  form 
has  existed  in  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church  in  all  ages  and  in  all  coun- 
tries. A  distinction  has  been  in- 
stinctively perceived,  by  the  laity  at 
least,  between  the  truth  of  religious 
dogmas,  or  the  efficacy  of  religious 
rites,  and  the  force  of  papal  decrees. 
Even  Charles  V.  and  Philip  II.  made 
war  upon  popes  and  disregarded 
their  censures,  though  either  of  those 
monarchs  would  rather  have  lost  a 
])rovince  than  have  missed  a  mass. 
In  like  manner,  the  people  of  Liege 
were  ready  to  compel  the  adminis- 
tration of  the  sacraments,  though  in- 
formed by  the  head  of  the  Church 


that  they  were  thereby  incurring  only 
a  deeper  damnation.  They  believed 
implicitly  in  the  sacred  character  of 
the  priesthood,  but  had  a  stronger 
faith  in  the  efficacy  of  its  extorted 
blessings  than  in  those  of  its  volun- 
tary curses.  The  real  terror  of  an 
act  of  excommunication  consisted  not 
in  the  sentence  of  eternal  perdition, 
but  in  the  severance  of  the  person 
condemned  from  communion  with 
his  fellow-Christians  and  from  all  the 
consolations  of  religion.  Tliese  were 
tangible  and  immediate  results,  the 
fear  of  which  can  scarcely  be  consid- 
ered as  superstitiou. 


CHAP.  VII.] 


WAR  WITH  BURGUNDY. 


347 


of  the  capital  retired  to  rest.  Gangs  of  people  pa- 
trolled the  streets,  or  stationed  themselves  in  front 
of  tlie  different  churches,  waiting  for  the  hour  at 
which  the  bells  were  always  rung  for  matins.  When 
it  arrived  the  chimes  were  heard  as  usual.  In  the 
terrible  strait  to  which  they  were  reduced,  with  souls 
and  bodies  equally  imperilled,  the  clergy  found  a 
loophole  for  escape.  They  continued  to  discharge 
their  functions  "under  protest."^' 

Liege  was  now  become  a  Pariah  among  states.  All 
the  princes  of  Christendom  were  invited  by  the  Church 
to  aid  in  reducing  its  rebellious  vassals;  and,  what 
was  more  significant  and  of  greater  importance,  the 
duke  of  Burgundy  was  especially  intrusted  -with  the 
task.  That  he  would  speedily  obey  the  summons  ad- 
mitted of  little  doubt.  It  was  natural,  therefore,  that 
Liege  should  accept  without  hesitation  the  alhance 
offered  by  the  French  king.  A  treaty  was  signed 
l)inding  the  parties  to  wage  common  war  against 
Philip,  and  to  make  no  peace  in  which  both  were  not 
included.-^  No  sooner  had  this  treaty  been  proclaimed 
at  the  Perron  than  the  alarm-bell  was  rung,  the  guilds 
assembled,  and,  displaying  their  banners,  marched 
out  of  the  city.  Crossing  the  frontiers  of  Brabant, 
tliey  began  to  devastate  the  country ;  castles,  vil- 
lages, and  even  churches  were  sacked  and  burned ; 
the   inhabitants   were   put   to    the   sword.     Philip's 


*'  Adrianus,  Ampliss,  Col.,  torn, 
iv.  pp,  1275,  1276.  —  Johannis  de 
Los  Chronicon  Rerum  Gestarum  ab 
Anno  1455  ad  Annum  1514,DeRam, 
p.  26.  —  Depositiones  Testium  men- 


se  Junio  1465  facttc,  De  Ram,  pp. 
517-522. 

'■'*  Gacliard,   Doc.  Ined.,  torn.  ii. 
198,  et  scq. 


m\^ 


348 


LIEOE. 


[book  I. 


\n-\ 


lieutenant,  the  count  of  Nassau,  had  no  difficulty  in 
raising  a  suflicient  force  to  punish  and  drive  back 
the  undisciplined  invaders.  But  this  check  had  little 
eifect  upon  the  sanguine  and  reckless  spirit  of  the 
people.  They  were,  in  truth,  excited  almost  to  mad- 
ness. During  several  years  they  had  lived  without 
the  seciu'ity  of  law;  their  industry  had  been  para- 
lyzed ;  and  they  were  now  placed  under  the  awful  ban 
of  the  church.  They  regarded  the  duke  of  Burgundy 
as  the  author  of  their  calamities  j  and  they  imagined 
that  the  time  had  arrived  when  this  prince  might  be 
defied  with  impunity.  The  earlier  tidings  brought 
to  the  Netherlands  of  the  state  of  the  war  in  France 
were  of  a  nature  to  confirm  this  impression.  Accord- 
ing to  the  version  of  the  battle  of  Montlh{;ry  given 
by  those  who  had  been  the  first  tojly  from  the  field, 
the  Burgundian  army  had  been  routed  and  the  count 
of  Charolais  was  a  prisoner.  These  rumors,  which 
were  credited  even  at  Brussels,  excited  boundless 
exultation  in  Liege.  Hostilities  were  renewed ;  and 
flames  and  devastation  again  marked  the  track  of 
the  marauding  bands  that  sallied  across  the  bor- 
ders,'^ 

Such  acts  as  these,  however,  were  not  the  only  or 
the  worst  affronts  offered  to  the  haughty  and  power- 
ful house  that  had  cast  its  shadow  over  Li^ge.  The 
inhabitants  of  one  town  were  guilty  of  an  offence 
against  these  princes  of  a  deeper  dye  than  the  invasion 

"  Adrianus  de  Veteri-Bosco.  —  pp.  27,  et  seq.,  145-152. — Duclercq, 
Johannis  deLos;  Henrici  de  Merica  torn.  iv.  pp.  194,  195,  210.  —  Hay- 
De  Cladibus  Leodiensium ;  De  Ham,    nin,  torn.  i.  pp.  24,  25,  51,  et  seq. 


ciur.  VII.] 


WAR  ^VTl'II  BUUGUNDY. 


840 


of  their  territory  or  the  destruction  of  their  cnatlof?. 
Dinant,  second  only  to  tJie  capital  in  population  and 
importance,  was  situated  at  the  south-wcHtern  ex- 
tremity of  the  principality,  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
Meuse,  which  herq  fonned  the  boundary  line  between 
the  territory  of  Li(ige  and  the  county  of  J^'amur.  On 
the  opposite  bank,  at  the  distance  only  of  a  bowshot, 
stood  Bouvignes,  the  competitor  of  Dinant  in  an 
important  branch  of  trade  and  manufacture  of  which 
the  latter  had  long  been  the  principal  seat.  Riv.alry 
in  trade,  difference  of  political  sympathies  and  allegi- 
iinco,  their  proximity  to  each  other  and  comparative 
remoteness  from  other  towns,  had  engendered  a  bitter 
animosity  between  these  two  places,  although  there 
had  been  in  times  past  frequent  intermarriages  be- 
tween the  inhabitants,  with  a  consequent  mixture 
of  blood.^*  The  feud  was  kept  alive  not  only  by 
every  petty  species  of  mutual  annoyance,  but  by 
frequent  outbreaks  of  actual  hostilities.  In  the  des- 
ultory war  now  raging  along  the  whole  frontier, 
Dinant  and  Bouvignes  took,  of  course,  an  active  part. 
No  strategy  was  necessary  to  bring  about  an  encoun- 
ter. The  heights  on  either  side  were  crowned  with 
stone  towers ;  and  a  continual,  though  probably  not 
very  effective,  cannonade  was  interchanged  across 
the  river.  But  then  were  other  modes  of  war- 
tare,  in  which  the  people  of  both  places  were  much 
better  skilled  than  in  managing  artillery  or  in  carry- 
ing on  a  regular  siege.  They  sallied  out  in  bands 
from  either  town  to  surprise  and  capture  the  traders 


**  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  115. 


350 


LIEGE. 


[book  t. 


irn  m 


of  the  other  whose  business  led  them  beyond  the 
•walls,  or  to  plant  palings  in  the  river  to  interrupt  the 
passage  of  boats  laden  with  provisions.  The  appren- 
tices, who  formed  a  large  proportion  of  the  popula- 
tion and  who  mingled  largely  in  ther ;  skirmishes, 
were  accustomed  to  rely  as  much  upon  their  powers 
of  ribaldry  as  on  their  clubs  and  other  weapons  for 
disconcerting  their  opponents.  On  one  occasion  a 
troop,  composed  chiefly,  it  would  seem,  of  idle  youths 
and  such  persons  as  make  up  the  rabble  of  large 
towns,  crossed  the  river  from  Dinant,  and,  appearing 
under  the  walls  of  Bouvignes,  displayed  a  figure 
stuffed  with  hay,  having  a  cow-bell  suspended  from 
its  neck,  and  a  tattered  mantle  rudely  emblazoned 
with  the  cross  of  Saint  Andrew  and  other  insignia 
of  the  house  of  Burgundy.  "  See,"  they  exclaimed, 
"your  count  of  Charoiais !  a  false  trtlitor,  and  in  truth 
no  count  at  all,  but  the  bastard  of  our  old  Bishop 
Heinsberg  foisted  on  your  duke  as  his  son !  We  are 
going  to  1  ang  him  here  in  effigy,  as  his  master,  the 
king  of  France,  whom  he  dared  to  attack,  has  already 
hung  him  in  person."  With  these  and  other  insulting 
cries,  —  heedlessly  uttered,  heedfuUy  listened  to, — 
they  erected  a  gibbet,  to  which  they  attached  the 
effigy,  and,  having  riddled  it  with  arrows,  left  it  dan- 
gling like  a  scarecrow  in  full  view  of  their  silent  but 
indignant  foes.^ 


H  ' 


'*  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  pp.  203,204.  148.  —  Chronique  manuscrite,  ap. 

—  Gachard,  Doc.  Incd.,  torn.  ii.  pp.  Gerlache,  Revolutions  de  Liege  sous 

221,  222.  —  Henrici  de  Merica  de  Louis  de  Bourbon,  p.  63. 
Cladibus  LeodienRium,  De  Ram,  p. 


CHAP.  VII.] 


WAR  vrrm  burgundy. 


351 


While  the  exultation  —  the  frenzy  we  may  call  it 
—  of  the  people  of  Lidge  was  at  its  height,  it  was 
suddenly  checked  by  a  rumor  brought  from  France, 
and  speedily  confirmed.  The  king  had  been  defeated 
at  Montlhdry;  he  was  besieged  in  his  capital.  Other 
reports  followed,  still  more  emphatic  and  alarming. 
Louis  had  been  forced  to  an  ignominious  peace ;  the 
count  of  Charolais  was  returning  with  his  victorious 
army ;  he  was  assembling  fresh  forces ;  he  was  about 
to  march  upon  Liege.  The  king  himself  wi'ote  to 
his  allies,  informing  them  that  they  were  included  in 
the  treaty,  and  advising  them  to  make  their  submis- 
sion to  the  duke  of  Burgundy.  A  falsehood  so  gross 
and  so  easily  detected  might  seem  unworthy  of  a 
brain  like  that  of  Louis ;  but  the  case  hardly  admit- 
ted of  equivocation ;  and  the  plain  truth  —  that  even 
the  name  of  Liege  had  not  been  mentioned  in  the 
negotiations,  except  with  an  apology  on  his  part  for 
having  sought  the  alliance — he  was  much  too  amiable 
to  communicate.  But  the  attitude  of  the  enemy  was 
such  as  to  dispel  illusion,  if  any  had  existed.  Conster- 
nation prevailed  throughout  the  country ;  the  voices 
of  the  demagogues  were  hushed.  The  clergy  and  the 
moderate  party — those  whom  an  old  writer  calls  "the 
good  citizens,"  because  they  staid  away  from  the  pop- 
ular assemblies  when  there  was  a  probability  of  a 
tumult"" — ventured  once  more  to  proffer  their  advice. 
Their  proposal  was  "  peace,"  and  the  word  was  echoed 
by  the  multitude.   Where,  a  short  time  before,  no  man 

'*  "  Boni  cives  absentarunt  se  a  anus,  Ampliss.  Col.,  torn.  iv.  p. 
palatio  timentes  disturbium."   Aclii-     1284. 


If 

i  11, 


352 


LIEOE. 


[book  I, 


wonid  have  dared  to  mention  the  existence  of  Louis 
of  Bourbon,  it  was  now  resolved  by  the  people  to 
send  a  delegation  to  solicit  his  forgiveness.^'  At  the 
request  of  the  chapter  the  interdict  was  put  in  force. 
Two  noblemen,  vassals  both  of  Burgundy  and  of  Liege, 
were  requested  to  proceed  to  Brussels,  and,  if  possi- 
ble, penuade  Philip  to  grant  a  truce.  They  returned 
Avithout  having  succeeded  in  their  object,  but  with 
permission  for  an  embassy  to  be  sent  fully  empowered 
to  accept  such  terms  an  the  duke  should  think  proper 
to  impose.  The  persons  selected  belonged  to  that 
class  which  had  taken  little  part  in  the  revolt ;  those 
who  had  ])een  actively  concerned  in  it  would  probably 
have  been  lonth  to  go  on  such  a  mission.  Arrived  at 
the  ducal  court,  the  envoys  were  not  admitted  to  an 
audience ;  but  they  were  furnished  with  the  heads 
of  a  treaty  .such  as  it  was  intended  to  exact.  They 
were  informed,  however,  that  nothing  could  be  defin- 
itively settled  until  the  count  of  Charolais  had  com- 
pleted his  arrangements  and  entered  the  principality. 
As  soon  as  this  had  tak^n  place  the  envoys  proceeded 
to  the  camp.^® 

They  found  Charles  in  the  vicinity  of  Saint-Trond, 
and  their  reception  by  him  was  more  gracious  than 
they  had  ventured  to  anticipate.  He  assigned  them 
lodgings,  and  supplied  them  with  viands  from  his 
own  table.     He  had  always,  he  told  them,  been  well 


*'  "  Ubi  paiilo  ante  milliis  niulebat 
Ludovictini  de  IJoiljon  vivere  impu- 
ne  coiifitcri,  il)i  jam  tractabatur,"  &c. 
Johaniiis  de  Los  Chronicon,DeRam, 
p.  30. 


*'  There  are  some  unimportant 
discrepancies  imong  the  authorities 
in  regard  to  the  details  and  the  or- 
der of  tliese  events. 


(('If' 


CHAP.  VII.] 


INVADED  BY  CHARLES. 


353 


disposed  towards  the  people  of  Li^ge,  and  he  was 
prepared,  as  soon  as  their  present  differences  were 
arranged,  to  be  again  their  friend.  He  desired  them, 
however,  to  be  present  while  he  reviewed  the  troops, 
remarking  that,  as  they  had  supposed  him  to  have 
lost  his  forces  in  France,  he  wished  at  least  to  show 
them  the  remains.^  The  sight  was  one  which  might 
well  have  convinced  them  of  the  folly  of  resistance. 
The  army  consisted  of  twenty-eight  thousand  mount- 
ed troopers,  besides  a  multitude  of  archers  and  other 
foot.^"  It  was  an  army,  too,  different  in  temper  from 
that  which,  seven  months  before,  the  count  had  con- 
ducted into  France.  It  was  composed,  indeed,  in  a 
large  proportion  of  the  same  troops;  but  at  least 
these  troops  had  now  the  experience  of  a  campaign, 
and  in  that  campaign  they  had  been  subjected  to  a 
sterner  discipline  than  had  ever  before  been  imposed 
upon  his  levies  by  a  feudal  prince.  The  exacting 
disposition,  the  inexorable  will,  of  their  leader  had 
gradually  moulded  the  whole  body  and  reduced  it  to 
more  regular  habits  and  a  more  coherent  form.  The 
clamors  of  discussion  and  uncalled  for  counsel  had 
been  silenced.  Although  large  arrears  of  pay  were 
due,  and  it  was  now  the  depth  of  winter,  the  mur- 
murs of  the  men  were  few  and  faint      In  passing 


"  Adrianus,  Ampliss.  Col.,  torn, 
iv. — Johannis  de  Los,  p.  31. 

'"  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  250.  The 
Bohemian  tourists,  Leo  von  Rozmi- 
tal  and  his  followers,  who  went  out 
to  meet  Charles  on  his  return,  heard 
the  whole  number  present  in  the 
VOL.  I.  45 


field  estimated  at  a  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  men  —  a  loose  calculation, 
but  not  so  extravagant  as  may  be 
thought,  the  number  of  camp-follow- 
ers in  a  feudal  expedition  uh\  ays  far 
exceeding  that  of  the  combatants. 
IUtter-,Hof-,  und  Pilger-Reise,  s.  23. 


J 
I 

I 


T'l 


11 


1*^ 


'1     f 


r,54 


LI^GE. 


[book  T. 


through  Brabant  and  other  Belgian  provinces  they 
had  been  allowed  to  quarter  themselves  at  pleasure 
on  the  inhabitants ;  but  as  soon  as  they  entered  the 
territory  of  Liege  they  were  commanded  to  abstain 
from  plunder  and  to  pay  for  whatever  they  consumed. 
The  penalty  of  disobeying  these  orders  was  death. 
The  meanest  offender  and  the  highest  were  punished 
with  equal  rigor.  When  he  reviewed  the  army,  any 
breach  of  discipline  that  fell  under  the  notice  of  the 
commander  caused  his  dark  and  violent  temper  to 
break  forth  with  terrible  strength.  At  such  times 
he  did  not  hesitate  to  strike  with  his  baton  even 
men  of  rank;  and,  on  one  occasion,  he  had  slain 
with  his  own  hand  a  soldier  guilty  of  some  petty 
irregularity.^* 

New  stipulations  having  been  inserted  in  the 
treaty,  the  envoys  returned  with  it  to  Liege  and 
laid  it  before  the  people.  The  public  reading  gave 
rise  to  a  long  and  vehemenl  debate  One  clause 
in  particular  was  met  by  a  st-  v  )  f  opposition. 
Philip  demanded  that  ten  individi;;i,id,  to  be  selected 
by  himself,  should  be  given  up,  to  be  dealt  with 
according  to  his  pleasure.  To  the  revolutionary  fao 
tion  —  at  least  to  its  leaders  —  this  was  a  question  of 
life  and  death.  But  the  instincts  of  the  great  mass 
of  the  citizens  revolted  at  an  amnesty  in  which  all 
were  not  included.  Furious  invectives  were  directed 
against  the  envoys  who  had  consented  to  such  a 
tr.Mty.  "  Traitors !  sellers  of  Christian  blood ! "  — 
thes  ^  and  similar  cries  assailed  them  from  every  side. 

"  Duoleieq,  torn.  iv.  pp.  239,  262. 


CHAP.  Til.] 


THE  "PITEOUS  PEACE." 


355 


The  principal  member  of  the  embassy,  Gilles  de 
Metz,  a  wealthy  and  not  unpopular  man,  endeav- 
ored to  calm  the  tumult.  He  declared  that  no 
personal  harm  would  befall  those  to  whom  the  res- 
ervation wa  intended  to  apply.  A  temporary  exile 
was  the  worst  fate  to  which  they  would  be  required 
to  submit  He  himself  was  ready  to  go  with  them, 
and  never  to  return  to  the  city  unless  they  re- 
turned. This  explanation  seems  to  have  satisfied 
a  portion  of  the  people,  without  any  rigorous  in- 
quiry {IS  to  the  grounds  on  which  it  rested.  Rep- 
resentatives of  other  towns  were  present,  and  were 
urgent  for  the  acceptance  of  the  treaty  in  its  pres- 
ent shape.  Yet,  when  it  was  put  to  the  vote,  only 
eleven  out  Oi  the  thirty-two  guilds  pronounced  in 
favor  of  it.  In  this  dilemma,  one  of  the  principal 
nobles,  who,  like  others  of  his  rank,  had  friendly 
relations  with  the  court  of  Burgundy,  consented  to 
undertake  a  mission  to  the  count  of  Charolais,  and 
obtain,  if  possible,  some  modification  of  the  terms.^^ 

In  the  mean  time  Charles  had  advanced  somewhat 
farther  into  the  principality,  and  spread  out  his 
forces  over  a  larger  extent  of  ground.  But,  while 
he  aimed  by  threatening  demonstrations  to  over- 
awe the  people  of  Li^ge,  he  was  not  prepared  for 
a  slight  cause  to  drive  them  to  desperation.  It  was 
not  impossible,  if  he  refused  to  concede  the  point 
in  question,  that  his  nearer  approach  would  unite 
them  in  the  determination  to  brave  his  power  and 
to  make  the  most  resolute  defence.      The  time  of 


■  iJ 


**  Adriamis  de  Veteii-Bosco,  Ampliss.  Col.,  torn.  iv. 


i 
m 


856 


li£ge. 


[book  I. 


year  would  scarcely  have  allowed,  in  such  a  case, 
of  his  undertaking  the  siege  of  so  strong  and  popu- 
lous a  town.  His  troops  had  begun  to  suffer  from 
the  severity  of  the  weather.  Most  of  them  had 
already  remained  in  the  field  far  beyond  the  usual 
term  of  feudal  service.  For  several  weeks  they  had 
received  no  pay ;  and  further  to  have  prolonged  the 
campaign  would  have  been  too  hazardous  a  trial  of 
their  allegiance  and  fidelity  to  a  leader  whom  they 
had  learned  to  regard  with  fear  but  not  with  love."" 

Influenced,  doubtless,  by  such  considerations  as 
these,  Charles  agreed  to  revoke  the  objectionable 
clause  on  condition  that  the  sum  of  money  which 
had  been  siipvdated  to  be  paid  as  an  indemnification 
for  the  ravages  committed  on  his  father's  territories 
during  the  war  should,  be  considera'  ly  increased. 
Thus  altered,  the  treaty  was  one  which  could  only 
have  been  dictated  by  a  conqueror  and  imposed 
upo>i  a  prostrate  foe.  The  magistrates  of  the  cap- 
ital, ten  members  of  the  chapter,  ten  nobles,  ten 
members  of  each  of  the  guilds,  with  similar  repre- 
sentatives from  each  of  the  other  towns,  were  to 
appear  before  the  duke  at  a  time  and  place  by  him 
appointed,  and,  with  bare  heads  and  on  bended 
knees,  a«;krowlef'i;;c  that  it  was  without  provocation 
they  had  'locicu  od  v.  ir  against  him  and  attacked  his 
states  and  subje?  os  —  an  offence  of  which  they  now 
heartily  repenied.  They  were  to  supplicate  his  for- 
giveness,, and  beseech  him  to  receive  them  into  his 

"  Hayrin,  torn.  i.  p.  ('1.  —  "N'y    crevecoeur."     Duclercq,   torn.   iv. 
ftvoit   ;yuiat  tant  d'amour  que  de    p.  162. 


CHAr.  VII.] 


THE   "PITEOUS  PEACE." 


357 


grace 


34 


The  same  acknowledgment  and  supplication 
were  to  be  made  to  the  count  of  Charolais.  An  in- 
demnity of  three  hundred  and  forty  thousand  florins 
was  to  be  paid  to  Philip,  and  one  of  a  hundred  and 
ninety  thousand  to  Charles.  Liege  engaged  to  re- 
nounce its  present  alliances  with  other  powers,  and 
to  form  no  alliance  in  future  without  the  consent  and 
participation  of  the  duke  of  Burgundy.  He  and  his 
successors  were  to  be  recognized  as  the  hereditary 
Protectors  of  Liege ;  they  were  to  have  at  all  times 
a  free  passage  through  the  principality,  whether  with 
or  without  an  army;  their  coin  was  to  be  received 
there  at  its  current  valuation  in  their  own  states; 
no  fortresses  were  to  be  erected  on  the  Meuse  or  the 
Sambre  where  those  rivers  formed  the  boundary  of 
the  Burgundian  territories.  Finally,  the  vanquished 
people  promised  to  yield  henceforth  an  unqualified 
submission  ixi  the  mandates  of  their  sovereign.""^ 

Such  were  the  principal  stipulations  of  a  treaty 
which  bears  in  the  registers  of  Liege  the  title  of  the 
"  Piteous  Peace."  Yet,  harsh  as  were  the  conditions 
it  imposed,  still  harsher  was  the  refusal  to  grant  the 
same  conditions  to  those  who  had  earnestly  entreated 
to  be  allowed  to  submit  to  theuL    On  these  terms,  so 


'*  "  Diront  que,  ^  tort,  sans  cause 
et  centre  raison,  ilz  ont  commanc6  et 
continue  ladite  guerre ;  .  .  .  que  il 
Icur  en  desplaist,  s'en  repentent  de 
tout  leur  cueur,  et  que,  s'ilz  I'avoient 
^  coramencer,  jamais  ne  le  feroient 
ou  commenceroient,  et  supplieront 
en  toule   huuxilitc  .  .  .  que  mondit 


seigneur  les  vueille  prandre  et  rece- 
voir  en  sa  bonne  grace,  et  leur  par- 
donner  leurs  offenses."  Gachai'd, 
Doc.  Ined.,  torn.  ii.  p.  289. 

'*  The  treaty  is  printed  at  length 
by  Gachard,  Doc.  Ined.,  torn.  ii.  p. 
2S5,  et  seq. 


'  m 


Piifj 


358 


li^:ge. 


[hook  I. 


ran  the  instrument,  there  shall  be  jDcrpetual  peace 
between  the  duke  of  liur<5undy  and  all  the  towns 
of  Liege  —  except  Diiiaui:^^^  Dinant  was  excluded 
from  the  treaty  —  excluded  alike  from  the  punish- 
ment, the  degradation,  and  the  pardon. 

The  treaty  having  been  ratified,  on  the  24th  of 
January,  146G,  the  count  of  Charolais  prepared  to 
iv-turn  home.  Whatever  further  enterprise  he  might 
meditate,  its  execution  must  be  deferred  to  another 
season.  Having  ordered  all  liis  forces  to  be  mus- 
tered for  review,  he  passed  .along  the  ranks,  thanking 
each  captain  and  each  company  in  turn  for  the  loyal 
service  they  had  rendered  —  expressing  his  regret 
that  he  had  not  been  able  to  pay  them  in  full,  and 
assuring  them  that,  when  again  summoned  to  the 
field,  they  should  have  no  cause  for  complaint.  Or- 
ders were  then  given  for  the  iirmy  to  begin  its 
march.  During  tv/o  successive  days  the  gates  of 
Saint-Tr.nd  remained  oj^en  for  the  admittance  and 
egress  of  the  differeit  corps.  Long  trains  of  bag- 
gage-wagons and  artillery  were  followed  by  Ininds 
of  archers  and  other  light  troops  in  gay  and  va- 
ried uniforms;  and  these  were  succeeded  by  the 
men-at-arms,  cased  in  plates  of  burnished  metal  and 
armed  with  ponderous  lances,  their  horses  covered 


r'  i 


36  ii  Pjjj.  gg  moien,  bonne  paix  per- 
petuelle  sera  entre  mondit  seipieur, 
sesdis  pays  et  subgez,  et  Icsdites  cite, 
villas  et  pays  de  IJege  et  de  Looz, 
. . .  et  generalement  tout  le  pays, . . , 
hors  mis  ceulx  de  Dinant."  Gachard, 
Doc.  Ined.,  torn.  ii.  p.  296.  —  It  is 


stated  by  Adrianus  that  the  people 
of  the  capital  made  the  exclusion  of 
Dinant  a  ground  of  objection,  but 
were  quieted  by  an  assurance  that 
the  latter  town  had  rejected  offers 
of  peace. 


CUAP.  VII.] 


THE   "PITEOUS  PEACE." 


359 


with  rich  caparisoni><,  with  waving  phimes  and  orna- 
luent.s  of  gold ;  whiio  the  shrill  peals  of  the  clarions 
and  the  sterner  blasts  of  the  trumpets  filled  the 
streets  with  a  continual  resonance  of  martial  sounds.^'' 
The  inhabitants  of  the  town  beheld  V  is  brilliant 
spectacle  with  feelings  in  which  fear  and  hate  were 
blended  with  admiration.  Which  sentiment  predom- 
inated became  apparent  when  only  a  single  company 
remained  in  the  place.  A  brawl  arose,  in  which  two 
or  three  of  the  soldiers  were  slain ;  and  an  attempt 
was  made  by  the  people  to  close  the  gates,  with 
the  intention  of  cutting  off  and  destroying  the  whole 
troop.  The  project,  however,  r.aled.  One  gate  was 
seized  by  the  enemy,  who  retained  possession  of  it 
until  a  larger  force  came  up,  which,  sweeping  into 
the  town  with  serried  ranks,  soon  cleared  the  streets, 
cutting  down  such  of  the  citizens  as  failed  to  obtain 
shelter.  The  place  would  then  have  been  sacked 
if  the  count  of  Charolais  had  not  arrived  and  put  a 
stop  to  the  pillage.  He  ordered  proclamation  to 
be  made  that  the  inhabitants  shoula  remain  within 
their  doors,  under  pain  of  death,  until  the  town  had 
been  completely  evacuated  by  his  troops.  He  al- 
lowed the  seizure  of  a  moderate  quantity  of  spoil, 
made  prisoners  of  some  of  the  persons  who  had  com- 
menced the  attack,  and  finally  quitted  Saint-Trond 
on  the  30th  of  January.^ 


.38 


"  "  Ne  faisoit-on,  durant  le  temps  les  rues  de  ladicte  ville,  et  devant  les 

que  ledict  comte  y  scjourna,  autre  logis  des  seigneurs."  Haynin,  torn.  i. 

chose  que  bonne  chore,  jouer,  chan-  p.  59. 
ter,  sonner  trompettes  et  clarions  par        ^'  Duolercq,  torn.  iv.  pp.  251, 252. 


m  ii 


360 


UtOE. 


[book  I. 


It  was  on  the  evening  of  the  following  day  that 
the  citizens  of  Brussels  had  notice  of  his  approach. 
They  hastily  prepared  an  ovation  with  which  to  wel- 
come his  return.  The  guilds  assembled  under  their 
respective  banners,  and  marched  out,  with  torches, 
to  receive  him.  The  whole  town  was  illuimnated ; 
and  his  progress  through  the  sticets  was  delayed  by 
the  S2)ectacles  and  quaint  performances  common  on 
such  occasions.™ 

Arrived  in  front  of  the  palace,  Charles  dismounted 
from  his  horse,  and,  taking  by  the  hand  Leo  von  Roz- 
mital,  a  noble  Bohemian,  then  on  a  visit  at  the  court, 
ascended  the  steps.  Passing  successively  through 
several  halls,  in  each  of  which  was  stationed  a  guard 
of  a  hundred  men,  they  entered  the  apartment  where 
Philip  awaited  his  son.  At  the  door  the  count  knelt. 
His  father,  who  was  seated  in  state  at  the  upper  end 
of  the  room,  took  no  notice  of  his  presence.  Ad- 
vancing farther  into  the  hall,  Charles  again  fell  upon 
his  knee.  Still  the  duke  maintained  his  attitude  of 
indifference.  It  was  not  until  the  obeisance  had 
been  again  repeated  that  the  stern  etiquette  of  the 
Burgundian  court  allowed  the  sovereign  to  embrace, 
with  tears  of  joy  and  pride,  the  son  who  had  re- 
turned to  him  with  a  double  wreath  of  victory  upon 
his  brow.*" 


^  "  Jam  no.i  Iventabat,  ideo 
magna  multiiado  Duci  [i.  e.,  Carole] 
obviam,  cum  facibus  accensis,  magno 
ab  urbe  intervallo  effusa  est,  viaque 
continenta  et  nusquam  interrumpta 
per  totam  civitatem  luminnm  seric, 


usque  in  arcem  rclucebat.  Cum  per 
urbem  transiremus,  multa  et  varia 
edebantur  ludorum  spectacula."  Hit- 
ter-, Hof-,  und  Pilger-Reise,  s.  23. 

*'^  Ritter-,  Hof-,  und  Pilger-Reise, 
s.  24.  —  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  253.  — 


.fc  ,ii 


CHAP.  VII.] 


TIIE   "HlTOrS   PEACE." 


361 


This  wreath,  however,  was  already  somewhat  faded. 
A  few  weeks  after  the  count  of  Charolais  had  quitted 
France  he  had  begun  to  receive  messages  and  letters 
from  his  allies  warning  him  of  the  insecurity  of  the 
conquests  they  had  made ;  and,  on  the  21st  of  Jan- 
uary, three  da}  s  previous  to  that  on  which  the  treaty 
with  Liege  was  ratified  by  Charles,  Louis,  in  a  docu- 
ment of  not  less  remarkable  tenor,  had  announced 
the  fact,  that,  for  "certain  just  and  reasonable  causes," 
lie  had  retaken  possession  of  ''  his  duchy  of  Nor- 
mandy." " 


Saint-Simon  notices  a  somewhat  Rim-  *'  Lettres  patentes  par  Icsquelles 
ilar  reception  of  a  duke  of  Lorraine  le  Roy  Louys  XI.  reprend  la  Nor- 
by  Louis  XIV.  mandie,  Lcnglet,  torn.  ii.  pp.  567. 


VOL.  I. 


46 


•  1    V 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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^^»^  lit     >s^»       ^Kj 


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1.1 


ItilM    12.5 

■SO  ^^~     H^H 

■^  1^   |2.2 

li 


li^l'-^iJ^ 

< 

: 5" 

► 

c?;^^ 


^ 


Photographic 

Sdences 

Corporation 


\ 


;\ 


as  WIST  MAIN  STRIIT 

WMiTIR,N.Y.  14SM 

(7I*)I73'4S03 


t  ■       ! 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


1>    :i 


i 


Kin 


11 


HOW   THE   KING   EECOVERED  NORMANDY.  —  STATE   OP  DINANT. 

1466. 

On  the  termination  of  the  War  of  the  Public  Weal 
Charles  of  France  had  set  out,  as  already  stated,  in 
company  with  his  friend  the  duke  of  Brittany,  to 
take  possession  of  the  great  domain  which  had  been 
settled  upon  him  as  "his  appanage."  The  suite  of  the 
two  princes  was  composed  chiefly  of  the  same  active 
and  adroit  politicians  who  had  originally  planned  the 
enterprise  against  the  king,  and  who  had  formed  that 
union  of  the  great  vassals  which  he  found  it  impos- 
sible to  dissolve.^  Their  number  was  swollen  by 
the  addition  of  many  persons  of  the  same  stamp, — 
Dunois,  Dammartin,  and  others,  —  who  had  played 
conspicuous  parts  in  the  last  reign,  but  who  had 
been  treated  by  Louis  with  harshness  or  contempt. 
For  this  treatment  they  had  now  obtained  compen- 
sation; but  was  not  a  large  debt  of  gratitude  still 

'  Commines,  torn.  i.  pp.  105, 107.  —  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  240.  —  Basin, 

torn.  ii.  p.  141. 

(3(») 


CHAP.  VIII.] 


LOUIS  RECOVERS  XORiL\^DY. 


363 


due  to  them  from  the  king's  brother,  whom  they  had 
rescued  from  absolute  dependence  and  comparative 
obscurity,  and  raised  to  eminence  and  power  ?  At 
the  court  of  Francis  tliey  had  lived  only  as  refugees, 
performing  whatever  services  were  demanded  in 
return  for  the  protection  afforded  to  them  by  that 
prince.  But  in  Normandy  they  expected  that  this 
position  would  be  reversed.  They  were  the  patrons ; 
the  duke  was  the  client.  They  were  to  shape  his 
policy  and  conduct  his  administration,  not  by  private 
suggestions  or  intrigues,  but  as  his  acknowledged 
counsellors  and  ministers.  To  prevent  any  inter- 
ference with  this  design,  they  proposed  that  Charles 
should  make  all  his  appointments  before  his  entrance 
into  the  capital  of  his  new  dominions.'* 

His  arrival  there  was  impatiently  looked  for  both 
by  the  people  and  by  the  nobles.  All  classes  had 
hailed  with  joy  the  restoration  of  their  province  to 
its  place  among  the  great  fiefs.  The  greatest  of  all 
the  provinces  in  extent  and  natural  resources,  inferior 
in  actual  wealth  and  population  only  to  Flanders, — 
which  contributed  nothing  to  the  necessities  of  the 
monarchy,  —  Normandy  had  no  sooner  been  wrest- 
ed from  the  English  than  its  revenues  became  the 
main  support  of  the  French  crown.  By  the  manner, 
too,  in  which  the  taxes  were  imposed  and  collected, 
the  sums  that  went  into  the  royal  exchequer  formed, 
according  to  the  common  opinion,  but  a  small  part 
of  the  amount  extorted  by  the  fiscal  agents.  On 
the  accession  of  the  present  monarch  the  people  of 

'  Basin,  torn.  ii.  p.  142. 


ii 

I 


364 


LOUIS  IlECO^'ERS  NORiLlNDY. 


[book  I. 


im 


w 


111 


Normandy  had  urgently  remonstrated  against  these 
miquities;  but,  tliough  Louis  had  given  the  most 
gracious  and  plausible  replies  and  promised  a  great 
scheme  of  amelioration,  the  taxes  had  been  largely 
increased,  and,  if  we  may  credit  the  testimony  of  a 
well  informed  but  strongly  prejudiced  witness,  the 
mode  of  raising  them  had  been  rendered  still  more 
oppressive.^  What  made  the  burden  heavier  was  the 
fact  that  the  people  who  contributed  thus  largely  to 
the  maintenance  of  royalty  were  seldom  shone  upon 
by  its  beneficent  rays.  The  money  went  abroad  or 
was  expended  in  private  channels,  instead  of  de- 
scending in  profuse  and  grateful  showers  on  the 
places  whence  it  had  been  absorbed.  Whenever 
Louis  visited  the  province  he  came  unattended  by 
a  train,  declined  any  pompous  reception,  and,  aided 
by  his  mean  air  and  vulgar  features,  was  enabled, 
when  he  wished,  to  maintain  a  strict  incognito. 

Now  all  was  to  be  changed.  Rouen  was  to  become 
the  seat  of  an  independent  government,  the  residence 
of  a  splendid  court.  Nobles  and  people  were  to 
share,  though  doubtless  in  a  very  unequal  degree,  in 
the  advantages  that  could  not  fail  to  result.  Among 
the  former  class  were  some,  preeminent  by  their 
position  or  their  birth,  who  looked  forward  with  pe- 
culiar satisfaction  to  the  establishment  of  a  new  order 
of  things.  The  Norman  bishops  and  abbots  had  suf- 
fered more  than  any  others  of  their  order  from  the 
arbitrary  manner  in  which  Louis  had  abolished  some 
of  its  principal  immunities.     The  great  nobles,  who 


*  Basin,  torn.  ii.  p.  cap.  9,  10,  11,  et  al. 


CHA.P.  VIIT.] 


LOUIS  RECO'N'ERS  NORMANDY. 


365 


had  received  from  him  the  same  treatment  as  their 
compeers  in  other  parts  of  the  realm,  treasured  the 
traditions  of  a  former  age  when  their  ancestors  had 
been  the  magnates  of  a  court  that  cared  little  for  the 
frowns  of  a  king  of  France.  The  prelates,  therefore, 
in  Normandy,  and  the  heads  of  the  great  families, 
had  long  been  the  bitterest  enemies  whom  Louis 
had  in  his  dominions.*  It  was  they  who,  in  the  late 
war,  had  struck  the  final  blow,  to  which  he  had  suc- 
cumbed, by  betraying  the  province  into  the  hands  of 
the  confederates.  They  had  proclaimed  his  brother 
duke  of  Normandy  before  the  king's  consent  was 
extorted.  His  assent,  indeed,  was  merely  the  ef- 
fect and  the  ratification  of  their  act  In  this  view, 
it  was  to  them  that  Charles  was  indebted  for  his 
present  position.  They  were  now  assembled  at  Rou- 
en, and  had  made  preparations  for  his  reception. 
They  intended  to  revive  on  this  occasion  the  ancient 
forms  with  which  their  anceiBtors  had  been  used  to 
inaugurate  the  reign  of  a  new  duke;  —  from  their 
hands  Charles  was  to  receive  the  ring  with  which  the 
duchy  was  said  to  be  espoused  by  its  prince ;  and, 
when  the  ceremonies  were  completed,  they  were  to 


*  This  is  the  party  whose  senti- 
ments are  represented  with  a  con- 
centrated bitterness  by  Basin,  one 
of  its  most  distingiiished  leaders. 
He  is  our  chief  authority  in  all  that 
relates  to  Noi-mandy.  His  exposi- 
tion of  the  state  of  that  province 
throughout  the  reigns  of  Charles 
Vn.  and  Louis  XI.  is  very  instruc- 
tive.    One  strong  motive  of  the 


nobility  in  seeking  a  change  of  gov- 
ernment seems  to  have  been  a  de- 
sire to  emancipate  themselves  from 
the  tyranny  of  the  robe,  peculiarly 
oppressive  in  a  region  where,  as  in 
Scotland,  legal  LStuteness  and  a  liti- 
gious disposition  have  always  been 
among  the  most  striking  charaoter- 
isticB  of  the  people. 


366 


LOUIS  RECOVERS  NORMANDY. 


[book  I. 


occupy  their  natural  position  as  the  supporters  of 
his  throne  and  his  great  officers  of  state. 

Between  the  friends  who  accompanied  and  the 
friends  who  awaited  him,  —  these  in  possession  of 
his  duchy,  those  of  his  person,  —  Charles's  position 
was  that  of  one  who,  having,  after  a  protracted  and 
expensive  lawsuit,  established  his  right  to  an  estate, 
finds  it  heavily  encumbered  with  mortgages,  while  he 
is  surrounded  by  Jews  and  attorneys  who  had  ad- 
vanced him  the  means  of  living  and  of  prosecuting 
his  claim,  and  who  now  present  him  with  their  ac- 
counts. There  was  also  on  either  side  a  multitude 
of  inferior  suitors,  so  numerous  that,  had  all  the 
offices  in  the  kingdom  been  at  his  disposal,  many  of 
his  adherents  must  still  have  been  dismissed  unre- 
quited." The  king  himself  had  been  involved  in  the 
like  embarrassments.  He  too,  at  his  accession,  had 
found  himself  overwhelmed  with  obligations  and  be- 
sieged by  a  host  of  applicants.  But  Louis  had  a  way 
of  meeting  difficulties  peculiar  to  himself.  With  a 
thousand  polite  speeches  he  had  slipped  away  from 
the  pressing  attentions  of  his  Burgundian  friends. 
With  his  own  subjects  he  had  not  thought  it  neces- 
sary to  stand  upon  ceremony :  when  leaving  Tours, 
in  December,  1461,  on  a  journey  to  the  south,  he 
caused  it  to  be  proclaimed  in  the  streets,  with  sound 
of  trumpet,  that  no  one  should  follow  him,  under 
pain  of  death." 

*  "  TantuB  enim  ad  curiam  ejus  portune  rogantium,  totius  regni  offi- 

pro  hifice  rebus  fiebnt  undique  eon-  cia  suffecissent."      Basin,  torn.  iL 

cursus,  ut  vix,   ad   satisfaciendum  p.  142. 
parvffi  postulationum  portioni,  et  im-        '  Chastellain,  p.  189. 


CHAP.  Tin.] 


LOUIS  BECOVERS  NORMANDY. 


367 


Such  an  example  Cha'les  of  France  was  not 
competent  to  imitate.  H3  wanted  the  adroitness 
to  evade,  the  boldness  to  orush,  the  obstacles  that 
thrust  themselves  upon  his  ].ath.  On  his  ax  rival  at 
Sainte-Cath^rine  du  Mont,  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Rouen,  he  was  informed  that  the  arrangements  for 
his  reception  were  completed.  Yet  from  day  to  day 
he  deferred  making  his  entrance  into  the  capital, 
unwilling  to  break  with  his  present  companions  and 
unable  to  comply  with  their  exorbitant  requests. 
From  these  perplexities  he  was  relieved  by  no  efforts 
of  his  own.  His  subjects  in  the  city,  impatient  to 
salute  him  and  irritated  by  the  delay,  were  no  sooner 
informed  by  the  nobles  that  *aeir  prince  was  a  pris- 
oner in  the  hands  of  the  Bretons,  than  thev  assem- 
bled  in  arms,  presented  themselves  before  him  at 
the  place  where  he  was  lodged,  and  carried  him  off 
in  triumph.  This  was  an  insult  which  the  duke  of 
Brittany  could  ill  digest.  He  had  pleased  himself 
Avith  the  idea  of  appearing  before  the  people  of 
Normandy  as  their  liberator  from  the  tyranny  of 
the  king.  At  his  court  Charles  of  France  had  taken 
refuge ;  by  him  the  prince  had  been  supplied  with 
an  army  to  enable  him  to  vindicate  his  rights. 
Francis  had,  therefore,  expected  to  be  received  at 
Rouen  as  Philip  of  Burgundy  had  been  received  at 
Paris  when  he  brought  back  his  royal  p'oivge  from 
exile  and  placed  him  on  the  throne.  Disgusted  with 
the  different  treatment  he  had  experienced,  the  duke 
refused  to  listen  to  the  overtures  made  to  him  for  a 
reconciliation,  and  quitted  the  neighborhood  of  the 


368 


LOUIS  RECOVERS  NORMANDY. 


[book  I. 


r  ■' 


capital.  Instojul,  however,  of  returning  home,  he 
established  himself  at  Caen,  in  Lower  Normandy, 
and  took  pos-session  of  several  other  towns,  while  his 
troops,  spreading  themselves  over  this  portion  of  the 
province,  treated  it  as  a  conquered  country,  devas- 
tatvjd  the  fields  and  pillaged  the  inhabitants/ 

Thus  the  Normans,  in  their  anxiety  to  have  a  duke 
of  their  own,  had  got  two.  "When  tidings  of  these 
events  reached  the  king  he  considered  it  incumbent 
on  him  to  proffer  his  mediation. 

Since  the  close  of  the  war  Louis  had  been  busily 
employed.  In  the  first  place,  he  had  dismissed  near- 
ly all  his  "  Msters,  and,  in  most  cases,  he  had  taken 
back  tho  oiu  he  had  formerly  removed.^   He  had 

also  made  a  change,  if  not  of  policy,  at  least  in  his 
tactics.  Hitheito,  in  his  attempts  to  curb  the  power 
of  feudalism,  he  had  directed  his  attacks  against  the 
whole  of  his  great  vassals,  with  scarcely  an  excep- 
tion. He  had  endeavored,  it  is  true,  to  cover  his 
approaches  by  a  lavish  exhibition  of  friendliness ;  but 
the  mask  was  too  thin  to  conceal  his  real  designs. 
As  a  natural  consequence,  all  had  united  against 
him ;  and  the  result  had  shown  that,  when  all  were 
united,  he  had  little  chance  in  a  contest  with  them. 
He  now  determined  to  follow  that  course  which  his 
own  experience,  as  well  as  the  counsels  of  his  friend 
Sforza,  pointed  out  as  more  expedient.  He  must 
endeavor  to  divide  his  opponents,  and  that  not  by 

''  Basin,  torn.  ii.  p.  143,  et  seq. —    De  Troyes,    Lenglet,    torn.  ii.   p. 
Commines,  torn.  i.  pp.  107,  108.  —    62. 
Duclercq,  tcm.  iv.  pp.  240-242.  —        '  De  Troyes,  pp.  51,  52.  , 


CHAP.  VIH.] 


LOUIS  RECOVERS  NORMANDY. 


369 


[book  t. 

fie,  he 
nandy, 
lile  liis 

of  the 

devas- 

a  duke 
)f  these 
;uiiibent 

n  busily 
ed  near- 
id  taken 
He  had 
st  in  his 
he  power 
ainst  the 
,n  excep- 
iover  his 
ness  -,  but 
designs, 
against 
all  were 
ith  them, 
which  his 
his  friend 
He  must 
at  not  by 

torn.  u.  P- 
I,  52. 


delusive  promises,  but  by  real  concessions.     Among 
the  members  of  the  confederacy  were  some  whose 
ambition   he  might  perhaps   gratify  by  substantial 
marks   of  favor  without  endangering  his  vital  in- 
terests.    He  incurred  little  risk  by  forming  an  alli- 
ance with  the  house  of  Anjou  and  covertly  aiding 
its  enterprises;   for  these  enterprises  were  directed 
against  foreign  powers,  and  were  more  likely  to  end 
ill  ruin  than  in  success.     He  might  safely  encourage 
to  a  higher  flight  the  aspiring  spirit  of  the  Constable 
Saint-Pol ;  the  loftier  his  ambition  the  more  galling 
would  be  his  dependence  on  the  house  of  Burgundy. 
But  the  person  for  whose  friendship  Louis  bid  highest 
was  the  duke  of  Bourbon.    The  estates  of  this  prince 
were  situated  in  the  centre  of  the  kingdom,  at  a  dis- 
tance from  those  of  his  allies.     He  was,  therefore,  the 
one  who  could  be  most  closely  watched  and  most 
easily  subdued.     While  acting  in  concert  with  the 
others  he  had  inflicted  serious  damage  on  the  king, 
compelling  him,  as  we  have  seen,  to  remain  absent 
from  his  capital  at  the  moment  when  from  different 
quarters  the  forces  of  the  confederates  were  march- 
ing to  attack  it.     Alone  he  was  not  formidable ;  as 
a  friend  he  might  be  serviceable;  and  his  friendship 
was  to  be  purchased  at  a  price  which  the  king  could 
afford  to  pay.      Accordingly  the  duke  of  Bourbon 
now  received  the  appointment  of  "lieutenant-gen- 
eral," with  military  command  over  a  large  portion  of 
the  kingdom.    The  government  of  Languedoc  was 
bestowed  upon  him,  with  a  pension  of  twenty-four 
thousand  livres ;  and  Louis  gave  his  own  illegitimate 


VOL.  I. 


47 


370 


LOL'IS  IlECO^'ERS  NORMANDY. 


[hook  I. 


m 


daughter  in  marriage  to  the  tluke's  bastard  brother. 
At  a  somewliat  L'lter  period  a  union  between  the 
legithnate  branches  of  the  two  famihes  was  destined 
to  cement  the  alliance.  These  benefactions  were 
bestowed  partly  in  anticipation  and  partly  in  requital 
of  valuable  services  rendered  by  the  duke.  Ix)uis 
had  formed  a  very  favorable  opinion  of  his  talents, 
applauding  the  dexterity  and  spirit  with  which  he 
had  carried  out  the  views  of  the  confederates  in  the 
conquest  of  Normandy.  Might  not  the  same  skilful 
agent  be  employed  in  its  reconquest? 

In  company  with  the  chancellor  of  France  and 
other  officers  of  state,  and  bearing  a  commission 
which  authorized  him  to  employ  his  efforts  for  set- 
tling the  troubles  in  Normandy,  Bourbon  entered 
that  province  early  in  December,  1465.  He  sent  his 
credentials  to  Charles,  and  requested  him  to  name  a 
place  of  meeting."  But  this  embassy  of  peace  and 
conciliation  was  escorted  by  a  considerable  body  of 
troops ;  and  the  king  himself,  assembling  a  stronger 
force,  followed  cautiously  in  the  same  direction. 

Attended  by  his  principal  nobles,  Charles  of  France 
arrived  at  Louviers,  six  leagues  south  of  Rouen,  for 
the  purpose  of  holdmg  an  interview  with  Bourbon. 
The  latter,  however,  failed  to  keep  the  appointment. 
Three  days  passed  without  his  appearance.  At  length 
tidings  were  received  of  his  movements.     He  had 


»  Basin,  torn.  iii.  p.  263.  — The 
work  here  cited  is  the  author's  "  Apo- 
logia," printed  during  his  lifetime, 
but  cii'culated  only  among  his  friends, 
and  wholly  forgotten  until  recently 


edited  by  M.  Quicherat.  Its  account 
of  the  present  proceedings  is  more 
graphic  and  circumstantial  than  that 
which  the  writer  has  given  in  his 
History  of  Louis  XL 


10    „  , 

velut 

inviccm 
II 

ma3  ve 

terra  8U£ 

turn  rad 

cohaprebi 

Basin 

to  himsel 

of  his  da 

treat. 

same  adv 

counsello 


CHAI'.Vlll.] 


LOUIS  RECOVERS  NORMANDY. 


371 


iirrivcd  the  day  before  at  Evreux,  five  leagues  distant, 
and  had  been  received  by  the  authorities  with  the 
distinction  suited  to  his  rank  and  mission.  But  no 
sooner  had  he  entered  the  town  than  he  had  turned 
out  the  garrison,  dismissed  all  the  public  functionaries, 
and  taken  formal  possession  of  the  place  in  the  king's 
name.  These  news  were  followed  by  others  equally 
strange.  Vernon,  situated  at  the  same  distance  as 
Evreux  but  in  a  different  direction,  had  been  seized 
in  a  similar  manner ;  and  from  both  places,  forming 
with  Louviers  the  vertices  of  an  equilateral  triangle,"* 
troops  were  now  rPT»idly  approaching,  while  by  still 
oilier  routes  different  parties  were  in  motion  —  show- 
ing that  the  surrounding  country  had  been  suddenly 
flooded  with  invaders.  Charles  and  his  counsellors 
were  now  awakened  to  their  danger,  and  retired 
hastily  in  the  direction  of  the  capital;  while  the 
royal  army,  advancing  farther  into  the  country,  and 
spreading  itself  over  a  wider  extent,  found  little  dif- 
ficulty in  uprooting  a  government  so  recently  planted 
and  in  reestablishing  the  royal  authority." 


'"  "  Sunt  enim  tria  hujusccmodi 
velut  in  triangulo  a'quilatero  prope 
invicem  sita."  Basin,  torn.  iii.  p.  266. 

"  "Erat  enim  ipse  dux  Nonnan- 
niie  velut  arbor  rcccns  plantata  in 
terra  sua,  quae  nondum  missis  in  al- 
tum  radicibus  solo  tenuiter  adhuc 
cohecrebat"   Basin,  torn.  iii.  p.  270. 

Basin  (torn.  iii.  p.  2G7)  takes  credit 
to  himself  for  having  warned  Charles 
of  his  danger  and  suggested  his  re- 
treat. The  dean  of  Rouen  gave  the 
same  advice.  Others  of  the  prince's 
counsellors  denied  the  necessity  — 


whence  Basin  supposes  them  to 
have  been  parties  to  the  plot.  His 
suspicions  are  rendered  probable  by 
the  fact  that  one  of  these  persons  had 
been  in  secret  communication  with 
Louis.  (See  Quicherat's  note  to  this 
passage.)  Commines  (tom.  i.  p.  1U8) 
intimates  that  the  division  between 
the  dukes  of  Normandy  and  Brittany 
had  been  fomented  by  agents  of  the 
king.  There  is  also  evidence  that 
the  surrender  of  the  towns  was  part- 
ly the  result  of  treachery. 


372 


LOUIS  RECOVERS  NORMANDY. 


[boo«  I. 


tih   :    III! 


The  king  now  made  his  appearance  on  the  scene. 
His  purpcso,  as  he  stated,  was  to  have  an  interview 
with  the  duke  of  Brittany,  and  he  accordingly  pro- 
ceeded to  Caen.  Still  smarting  under  the  indignity 
he  had  received  from  the  Normans,  Francis  was  easily 
induced  to  give  assurance  of  his  neutr^ility  in  the 
present  crisis.  He  even  affixed  his  signature  to  a 
treaty  by  which  he  promised  to  grant  no  asylum  in 
his  dominions  to  any  person  who  should  fall  under 
the  royal  displeasure.'^  Nor  was  this  the  only  advan- 
tage which  Louis  derived  from  his  journey  to  Caen. 
He  was  there  broiTght  face  to  face  with  men  whose 
abilities  he  had  lately  leanied  to  appreciate  at  their 
true  value.  "We  have  no  account  of  what  took  place 
in  his  interviews  with  them;  but  it  is  certain  that 
from  this  date  began  a  change  in  their  relations  with 
him,  which  led,  immediately  in  the  case  of  some  of 
these  persons,  at  a  later  period  in  that  of  others,  to 
their  defection  from  the  duke  of  Brittany  and  their 
return  to  the  court  of  France,  where  they  enjoyed 
even  greater  favor  than  in  the  preceding  reign  "  — 
favor  proportioned,  as  their  former  wrongs  had  been, 
to  their  several  degrees  of  merit.  Dammartin,  so 
long  the  especial  object  of  the  king's  aversion,  ob- 
tained the  first  place  in  his  confidence,  and  was  the 
person  chiefly  employed  bv  him  in  the  conduct  of 
military  operations. 

From  the  moment  at  which  the  plot  had  been 
fully  developed  by  Bourbon's  occupation  of  Evreux 


••  Lenglet,  torn.  ii.  p.  564.  —  The 
treaty  bears  the  date  of  ^-^c.  20. 


"  Commines,  torn.  L  p.  HI. 


CHAP.  VIII.] 


LOUIS  RECOVERS  NORMANDY. 


373 


and  other  towns,  and  his  advance  upon  I/jiivior!«, 
Charles  had  despatched  envoy  after  envoy  tc  reinon- 
Btrate  with  his  brother  against  this  flagrant  violation 
of  the  treaty.  But  where  were  his  associates,  who 
only  two  months  ago  had  formed  this  treaty,  having 
portinaci'^usly  refused  to  accept  of  other  terms,  and 
iiuule  the  cession  of  Normandy  the  sine  qua  non  of  an 
aiTiUigement  with  the  king  ?  The  duke  of  Brittany, 
who  had  been  selected  as  Charles's  guardian  and 
protector,  was  now  estranged  from  him.  The  duke 
of  Bourbon,  —  who,  at  the  time  of  the  negotiations, 
liad  warned  his  allies  to  put  no  trust  in  Louis,  for, 
whatever  conditions  he  might  submit  to,  he  would 
assuredly  break  them, — was  now  assisting  in  the  ful- 
filment of  his  own  prophecy.  The  count  of  Charo- 
lais,  to  whose  resolution  and  superior  resources  the 
king  had  chiefly  owed  his  defeat,  was  now  at  a  dis- 
tance, exerting  his  "invincible  power"  against  another 
enemy.  While  at  Saint-Trond  he  received  an  embassy 
from  Charles  of  France  urgently  soliciting  assistance." 
But  neither  the  state  of  his  operations  nor  the  con- 
dition of  his  army  allowed  him  to  think  of  interfering 
by  force;"  and  he  was  therefore  obliged  to  content 
himself  with  sending  envoys  to  the  king,  with  a  letter 
beseeching  him  to  "  take  in  good  part"  the  represen- 
tations which  they  were  instructed  "  in  all  humility" 
to  make.^° 

'♦  Basin,  who  gives  the  account,  and  sent  to  protect  Dieppe  j  but  be- 

was  himself  the  principal  member  fore  this  could  be  done  the  place  sur- 

of  this  embassy.  rendered.   Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  109. 

"  He,  however,  gave  orders  that  '•  "  Ausquelz  j'ay  chargid  vous 

a  force  should  be  collected  in  Picardy  dire  et  exposer  aucunes  choses  de 


1  { 


374 


LOUIS  RECO\'ERS  NORMANDY. 


r    [book  I. 


m  ,i 


n  I 


i 


''f 


1.;..; 


iiiii 


i:-| 


In  this  desolate  situation,  the  duke  of  Normandy 
—  if  we  may  give  the  title  to  a  print  e  who,  having 
but  just  assumed  it,  ^vas  about  to  lose  it  —  made  a 
move,  which  would  have  been  fatal  to  him  even 
had  there  still  existed  any  chances  in  his  favor. 
He  instructed  his  envoys  to  say  that  he  was  willing 
to  refer  the  question  of  his  appanage  to  the  other 
princes  or  to  a  certain  number  of  them,  provided 
the  king  would  engage  to  abide  by  their  decision.'^ 
This  proposal  was  construed  by  Louis  as  an  offer  to 
surrender  Normandy,  and,  by  a  subtle  anachronism, 
was  made  the  starting-point  and  basis  of  his  late  pro- 
ceedings. His  brother  had  expressed  a  desire  to  be 
relieved  of  a  government  the  cares  of  which  were  too 
weighty  for  him  to  bear;*®  and  the  king  had  consent- 
ed to  take  the  burden  again  upon  his  own  shoulders. 
He  acknowledged,  however,  thejustice  of  the  prince's 
claim  to  be  indemnified  for  his  loss.  What  fief  was 
Louis,  then,  prepared  to  bestow  in  lieu  of  Normandy? 
He  did  not  recur  to  his  former  proposition,  to  estab- 
lish his  brother  in  Champagne.  He  said  nothing  of 
Guienne,  which  had  also  been  discussed  during  the 
negotiations.  What  he  now  offered  was  the  county 
of  Rousillon,  which  in  fact  was  not  a  French  province 
at  all,  but  a  strip  of  territory  on  the  northern  slopes 
of  the  Pyrenees,  belonging  to  Aragon,  taken  by  Louis 

ma  part  en  toute  humilitd,  touchant        "  Instructions  des  ndgociateurs 

laditte  maticre.  ...  Si  vous  supplie  envoye's  au  Roi  par  le  due  de  Nor- 

.  .  .  prendre  men  petit  advis  au  fait  mandie,  Doc.  Ined.,  Melanges,  torn. 

de  mondit  seigneur  de  Normcndie  en  ii.  p.  410,  et  seq. 
bonne  part."   Doc.  Ined.,  Melanges,        '^  Doc.  Iiicd.,  Mdlangea,  torn.  ii. 

torn.  ii.  p.  421.  pp.  422,  note,  430,  432,  et  al. 


CHAP.  Till.] 


LOTUS  RECOVERS  NORMANDY. 


375 


as  security  for  the  repayment  of  a  loan,  and,  with  the 
best  will  on  his  part  to  retain  it,  not  to  be  counted 
upon  as  a  permanent  acquisition.^^  These  difficulties 
were  stated  by  Charles  in  answer  to  the  proposal; 
and,  as  a  further  and  fatal  objection,  —  the  force  of 
which  Louis  could  not  fail  to  see  and  acknowledge, — 
he  urged  that  in  Rousillon  he  would  be  at  a  great 
distance  from  all  his  relatives,  and  especially  from 
those  among  them  in  whom  he  most  confided.^ 

Before  the  negotiations  had  dwindled  to  this  point 
the  actual  recovery  of  Normandy  had  been  com- 
pleted. It  had  been  agreed  that  Charles  shoidd 
have  an  interview  with  the  duke  of  Brittany,  —  to 
whom,  in  his  perplexity  and  need,  his  feeble  mind 
still  turned  for  counsel  and  assistance,  —  and  the  sea- 
port town  of  Honfleur,  about  midway  between  Caen 
and  Rouen,  had  been  named  as  the  place  of  meeting. 
As  all  the  roads  were  occupied  by  the  royal  forces, 
the  prince  requested  and  received  his  brother's  safe- 
conduct  both  for  his  journey  to  Honfleur  and  his 
return.  Hardly  had  he  quitted  the  capital  when  the 
king's  troops  appeared  before  it,  and  the  inhabitants 
of  every  class  immediately  united  in  sending  a  depu- 
tation to  Louis  inviting  him  to  enter.    Having  loudly 


"  Sec  Mr.  Prescott's  account  of 
Housillon  and  the  disaffection  of  the 
inhabitants  while  under  the  rule  of 
Louis  XL,  Hist,  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella,  vol.  i.  pp.  50, 130. 

'""Mondit  seigneur  ne  tient  le 
contd  de  Roussillon  que  par  forme 
de  gagiiire ;  .  .  .  et  pour  la  garde, 
fauldroit  grant  nombre  de  gens  dc 


guerre  que  ne  pourrions  soustcnir. 
AuBsi  c'est  ung  lieu  hors  des  limites 
du  royaume,  loing  de  tons  noz  pa- 
rens et  amys,  et  mesmement  des 
principaulx  en  qui  avons  nostre  con- 
fiance,  et  oil  il  n'y  a  point  dc  seur- 
td."  Lettre  du  due  de  Normandie 
h  rtveque  de  Verdun,  Doc.  Incd., 
Melanges,  torn.  ii.  p.  443. 


t  i 


376 


LOUIS  RECOVERS  NORMANDY. 


I    [book  1, 


H,.  .!,    li 


ilr: 


'■■   /); 


proclaimed  their  unalterable  fidelity  to  their  duke  at 
the  moment  of  his  departure,  thay  were  now  smitten 
with  remorse  for  having  ever  acknowledged  a  sove- 
reign to  whom  they  had  been  expressly  commanded 
by  the  king  to  render  the  same  obedience  as  to  him- 
self. They  entreated,  therefore,  that  letters  of  remis- 
sion might  be  granted  to  them  for  this  fault  j  and 
Louis,  while  he  assured  them  that  there  was  no  occa- 
sion for  such  a  form,  since  their  conduct  was  in  no 
respect  blameworthy,  complied  with  their  request. 
He  excepted  only  six  persons,  chiefs  of  that  party 
which  he  knew  to  be  especially  hostile  to  him ;  and 
even  they  were  excepted  only  because,  being  the 
enemies  of  the  duke  of  Brittany,  the  king  was  bound 
by  his  late  treaty  with  that  prince  to  regard  them 
also  as  his  own.*^^  : 

The  seizure  of  Rouen  was  no  Infraction  of  the  safe- 
conduct  granted  to  Charles.  He  might  still  return 
thither  without  danger  of  being  molested  on  the 
way.  But  when  he  arrived  ?  —  this  was  a  question 
that  must  give  him  pause.  What  the  unfortunate 
prince  had  now  to  think  of  was  not  the  settlement 
of  his  appanage,  but  his  personal  security.     He  had 


*'  Doc.  Incd.,  Melanges,  torn.  li. 
pp.  419,  432,  438,  et  al.  — Basin, 
torn.  ii.  p.  I(i0,  et  seq.  —  Among  the 
persons  thus  excepted  were  two  ac- 
cused by  Basin  of  having  been  among 
the  accomplices  of  the  king.  His 
statement,  hoM'ever,  is  supported 
rather  than  invalidated  by  this  fact, 
since  it  appears  that  they  shortly  af- 
terwards received  letters  of  grace. 


although  in  some  parts  of  the  prov- 
ince Tristan  I'Hermite  was  busily  at 
work.  "Audit  temps,  furent  plu- 
sieurs  personnes,  officiers  et  autres 
dudit  pais  de  Normandie,  executez 
et  noyes  par  le  prevost  des  mare- 
schaulx  pour  les  questions  du  Roy  et 
Monseigneur  Charles."  De  Troyes, 
p.  54. 


CHAP.  VIII.] 


LOUIS  BECOVERS  NORMANDY, 


377 


no  resource  but  flight,  and  his  first  idea  was  to  make 
his  escape  to  Flanders.  By  land  he  could  not  hope 
to  effect  it.  The  eastern  frontier  of  Normandy  was 
so  vigilantly  guarded  —  as  we  are  told  by  one  who 
had  just  crossed  it  to  find  himself  in  hopeless  exile  — 
that  a  hare  could  scarcely  have  passed  in  safety.^ 
The  passage  by  sea,  however,  was  still  open;  and 
Charles  went  on  board  of  a  small  vessel  then  lying 
at  Honfleur.  But  the  wind  was  adverse;  and  his 
fears  would  not  allow  him  to  wait  for  a  change.  He 
returned  to  land,  and  set  out  for  Brittany  in  company 
with  Francis,  who  had  now  awakened  to  the  con- 
sciousness that,  in  gratifying  his  resentment  for  a 
trivial  slight,  he  had  made  himself  the  dupe  and  the 
tool  of  his  natural  enemy.  Without,  therefore,  re- 
garding the  principal  stipulation  of  the  treaty  he  had 
lately  signed,  he  again  granted  Charles  an  asylum  at 
his  court,  where  the  two  princes  had  ample  leisure  for 
reflecting  on  the  folly  by  which  their  recent  triumph 
had  been  brought  to  so  ridiculous  a  termination.^^ 

Louis  entered  Rouen  about  the  close  of  January. 
An  operation,  skilfully  planned  and  skilfully  conduct-' 
ed,  had  been  crowned  with  merited  success.  Pleased 
with  the  result,  he  felt  a  natural  desire  that  others 
should  sympathize  in  his  pleasure;  and  it  occurred  to 


**  "  Vias  etiam  omncs  atque  itin-        "  "  Ces  deux  dues,"  remarks  Com- 
cra,  quibus  ad  terrain  ducis  Burgun-  mines,    "  estoient    saiges    apres  le 
diaj  ex  Normannia  patere  potuisset  coup  "  —  a  proverbial  characteristic, 
accessus,  tarn  exacta  vigilantia  ob-  he  tells  us,  of  the  Bretons.    Tom.  i. 
servari  fecit,  ut  vix  ex  una  terra  in  p.  111. 
alteram  vel  lepus  transire  potuis- 
set."   Basin,  torn.  iii.  p.  274.  -  r'  ■'  ■-      - 
VOL.  I.                       48 


t  ; 


378 


LOUIS  RECOVERS  NORMANDY. 


[book  I. 


him  that  his  cousin  of  Charolais,  in  particular,  might 
be  glad  to  have  some  account  of  his  proceedings  and 
also  some  explanation  of  the  reasons  for  them.  He 
was  the  more  ready  to  make  such  a  communication 
because  it  was  his  settled  purpose  that  the  count 
should  be  made  acquainted  with  all  his  important 
affairs,  not  only  as  a  mark  of  confidence,  but  in  order 
that  his  sovereign  might  have  the  benefit  of  his  excel- 
lent advice.'^*  In  the  minute  instructions  given  to  his 
envoys,  baseless  assertions,  unwarranted  assumptions, 
and  sophistical  arguments  are  interwoven  with  an 
open  and  forcible  statement  of  the  real  grounds  that 
justified  his  act.  He  reminded  Charles  that,  when 
the  demand  had  been  originally  made  that  he  should 
settle  the  duchy  of  Normandy  upon  his  brother,  he 
had  answered  it  by  an  absolute  refusal,  and  that  sub- 
sequently the  negotiations  had  taken  a  different  turn. 
In  the  mean  time  the  province  had  revolted  from 
him,  and  Charles  of  France  had  then,  in  violation  of 
a  truce  which  had  been  proclaimed,  taken  upon  him- 
self ihe  title  of  duAe,  and  under  that  title  exercised 
.an  illegal  authority.  Resistance  would  have  been  of 
no  avail.  The  king  had  therefore  yielded.  But  he 
had  yielded  passively  and  under  constraint.  He 
had  remained  silent  when  Charles  did  homage  to 


'*  "  Le  roy  ddsiroit  bien  que  mon- 
dit  seigneur  de  Charolois  feust  bien 
adverty  de  tout  h  ddmene  de  ces 
niatieres,  tant  k  ce  qu'il  sceust  comme 
tout  a  estd  fait,  comme  pour  la  par- 
faicte  amour  et  fiance  qu'il  a  h  mon- 
dit  seigneur  de  Cbafolois,  et  que 


toutes  les  grans  matiores  du  roy  lui 
soient  communicquees,  pour  en  avoir 
son  bon  advis  et  conseil."  Instruc- 
tions des  ambassadeurs  envoycd  par 
le  Roi  au  comte  de  Charollais,  Doc. 
Incd.,  Melanges,  torn.  ii.  p.  424. 


CHAP.  TIII'l 


LOUIS  RECOVERS  NORMANDY. 


379 


him  at  Vincennes ;  he  had  regarded  the  grant  as  of 
no  validity  because  a  compulsory  one;  he  had  se- 
cretly protested  against  it;  and  hope  had  never 
deberted  his  heart  that  he  should  be  able,  with  the 
blessing  of  God,  to  recover  Normandy  and  to  join 
it  inseparably  to  the  crown.^*^  No  sooner  had  his 
brother  entered  on  the  government  than  he  had 
found  it  too  weighty  a  charge  for  him  to  sustain. 
He  had  acknowledged  it  to  be  so,  and  had  requested 
aid  from  the  king.  The  latter  had  sent  the  duke 
of  Bourbon  to  treat  with  him  amicably  on  the  sub- 
ject. Louis  himself  had  gone  to  Ca^*-,  at  the  request 
of  the  duke  of  Brittany.  He  had  made  no  attempt 
to  recover  the  province  by  arms.  But  the  inhabit- 
ants had  of  their  own  accord  at  once  acknowledged 
him  as  their  king,  their  sovereign,  and  their  natural 
lord.  Normandy  was,  in  truth,  too  great  and  too 
important  a  province  to  be  allowed  to  remain  in 
the  possession  of  any  subject.  It  was  the  chief 
jewel  of  the  crown.  It  had  been  always  regarded, 
from  its  extent,  its  situation,  and  the  fertility  of  its 
soil,  the  number  of  its  people,  the  strength  of  its  for- 
tresses, and  the  revenues  that  were  derived  from  it, 
as  equal  to  one  third  of  the  whole  realm.'^"    It  was 


t5      « 


'  Le  roy,  pour  ce  qu'il  con- 
giioissoit  ledit  bail  non  estxe  raison- 
nable  et  ne  se  devoir  faire,  ue  perdit 
oncques  en  son  courage  la  posses- 
sion dudit  pays,  et  qu'il  n'eust  vou- 
loir,  pour  le  bien  de  lui  et  de  tout  le 
royaume,  quant  Dieu  plairoit,  la  re- 
prendre  et  rcmectre  en  sa  main  et 
I'eatretenir  joincte  h  la  couronne  in- 


scparablement."    Doc.  Ined.,  Me- 
langes, torn.  ii.  429. 

*'  "  Normandie  est  le  principal 
fleuron  de  la  couronne ;  et  par  les 
anciens  a  tousjours  este  repute  (eu 
regard  et  considc'racion  h  la  qualitd 
et  situacion  du  pays,  aux  preemi- 
nences et  autoritc  d'icellui  tant  en 
places  fortes  et  subgcts  dudit  pays 


\  I 


i'";li|i 


380 


IX)UIS  RECOVERS  NORMANDY. 


[book  I. 


E.r  I 


p;;   I,. 
If 


exposed  to  the  invasions  of  the  English,  the  ancient 
enemies  of  France;  it  was  the  quarter  on  which  their 
attacks  were  always  commenced.  The  protection  and 
resources  of  the  crown  were  necessary  for  its  defence; 
its  fall  would  entail  the  subjugation  of  the  country.''^ 
Former  sovereigns,  and  especially  Charles  the  Fifth, 
surnamed  the  Wise,  had  expressly  forbidden  by  their 
ordinances  that  the  province  should  ever  again  be  held 
as  a  fief;  jurists  regarded  the  alienation  of  it  as  ille- 
gal; and  therefore  it  was,  and  to  prevent  the  absolute 
ruin  of  the  monarchy,  that  Louis  had  taken  it  again 
under  his  own  rule.  It  was  his  intention,  however, 
to  provide  a  suitable  appanage  for  his  brother,  such 
as  had  been  usually  bestowed  upon  the  principal 
members  of  the  royal  family.  He  had  desired  to 
confer  with  Charles  upon  the  subject ;  but  the  prince 
had  thought  proper  to  quit  the  province;  and,  al- 
though the  duke  of  Bourbon  and  other  persons  had 
been  sent  after  hhu,  he  had  persisted  in  withdrawing 


qu'nutrement,  et  en  la  grant  revenue 
dudit  pays)  la  tierce  partie  du  roy- 
aume  de  France  :  qui  n'est  pas  ap- 
panaige  convenable  pour  friire  de  roy 
de  France,  ne  raisnnnable  d'estre  sd- 
pard  de  la  couronne,  ne  oncqucs  sem- 
blable  appanaige  ne  fut  h,  nul  autre 
frere  de  roy."  Doc.  Incd.,  Mdlan- 
ges,  torn.  ii.  p.  428. 

"  "  Quant  ledif,  appanaige  eust 
tenu,  il  s'en  feust  peu  ensuir  la  per- 
dicion  et  destruction  dudit  duchid  de 
Normandie,  et  peut-estre  de  tout  le 
royaume ;  car  le  pays  de  Normandie 
est  voisin  d'Angleterre  et  des  An- 
glois,  qui  Bont  anciens  enuemis  de  ce 


royaume,  et  commundment  quant  les 
Anglois  ont  voulu  faire  leurs  de- 
scentes  en  ce  royaume  depuis  cent 
on  VIxx  ans  en  qh,  ils  les  ont  tous- 
jours  faictes  par  le  p«ys  de  Norman- 
die ;  et  si  ledit  pays  de  Normandie 
estoit  sdparc  de  la  couronne,  il  est 
impossible  qu'il  peult  estre  soufBsant 
pour  soy  garder  et  defendre  de  I'in- 
vasion  desditz  Anglois ;  et  si  ainsi 
estoit  que  ledit  pays  de  Normandie 
feust  perdu,  chacun  pent  bien  veoir 
et  congnoistre  quel  prdjudice  ce  se- 
roit  h  tout  le  royaur  '.a,  et  les  incon- 
vdniens  qui  en  pourroient  ensuir." 
Doc.  Incd.,  Melanges,  torn.  ii.  p.  428. 


,l,jl,.. 


[book  I. 

ancient 
ch  their 
iion  and 
iefence ; 
auntry.''^ 
le  Fifth, 
by  their 
a  be  held 
it  as  ille- 
absolute 
.  it  again 
however, 
;her,  such 
principal 
lesired  to 
ihe  prince 
;  and,  al- 
rsons  had 
ihdrawing 

nent  quant  les 
ire  leurs  de- 
e  depuis  cent 

es  ont  tou8- 
rs  de  Norman- 
le  Ncrmandie 
luronne,  il  est 
istre  Bouffisant 
fendre  de  Tin- 
is  5  et  si  ainsi 
de  Normandie 
eut  bien  veoir 
•djudice  ce  kc- 
I,  et  les  incon- 
•oient  ensuir." 

torn.  ii.  p.  428. 


CHAP,  vm.] 


LOUIS  RECOVERS  NORMANLY. 


381 


into  Brittany.  In  conclusion,  Louis  expressed  his 
satisfaction  with  the  messages  he  had  received  from 
the  count  of  Charolais  recommending  him  to  deal 
mildly  with  his  brother.  This  was  precisely  what  he 
had  done ;  mild  methods,  indeed,  were  those  which 
he  preferred  to  use  in  all  his  affairs ;  and  he  had  the 
most  perfect  trust  that  the  count,  when  informed  of 
these  matters,  would  continue  to  manifest  his  good- 
will to  the  king,  and  his  regard  for  the  honor  of  the 
crown  and  the  welfare  of  the  realm.^ 

Thus  all  that  the  king  had  done  was  to  revoke  a 
grant  in  itself  invalid,  and  to  resume  a  seat  already 
vacated.  Yet  there  was  a  possibility  that  this  reason- 
ing, clear  and  cogent  as  it  was,  might  fail  to  satisfy 
a  mind  so  peculiar  in  tlu  fixedness  of  its  views  as 
that  of  the  count  of  Charolais.  He  would  perhaps 
t  ogard  the  act  simply  as  a  breach  of  faith ;  he  might 
imagine  that  his  absence  had  been  seized  upon  as  an 
opportunity  for  violating  a  treaty  which  he  had  had 
the  principal  share  in  making ;  and,  as  he  was  not 
only  hasty  in  forming  his  opinions,  but  obstinate  in 
adhering  to  them,  it  would  not  be  strange  if  he 
should  ado))t  a  course  of  action  against  which  the 
milder  metuods  preferred  by  Louis  would  be  of  )ittle 
avail.  The  king  lost  no  time  in  preparing  for  this 
contingency.  He  drove  his  ministers  to  the  verge 
of  desperation  by  the  shifts  to  which  he  compelled 
them  to  resort  for  replenishing  the  treasury.  To 
provide  material  for  the  construction  of  new  pieces 
of  ordnance  he  ordered  the  bells  to  be  removed  from 

••  Doc.  Indd.,  Mdlauges,  torn.  ii.  p.  423-434.    •. 


i;  f' 


I!  ^  i 


J* 


382 


\  1 


LOUIS  RECOVERS  NORMANDY. 


[book  I. 


the  churches,  leaving  but  a  single  one  in  each  parish. 
In  the  course  of  the  spring  he  assembled  a  great 
army  on  the  frontiers  of  Picardy.  But  these  forces 
were  intended  only  for  defence.  He  did  not  design 
to  make  or  to  provoke  an  attack.  He  affected  to  bo 
in  fear  of  a  new  invasion  by  the  English  and  gave 
out  that  his  preparations  were  designed  for  meeting 
this  danger.'"'  At  the  same  time  he  sent  envoys  to 
Calais  to  negotiate  a  renewal  of  the  existing  truce, 
directing  that  they  should  visit  his  cousin  of  Charo- 
lais  on  the  way,  and  acquaint  him  with  the  object  of 
their  mission. 

Charles  viewed  these  proceedings  with  a  sullen  eye, 
conscious  that,  while  his  allies  had  been  outwitted, 
he  himself  was  outgeneralled.  All  he  could  now  do 
was  to  strengthen  the  garrisons  in  his  possessions  on 
the  Somme,  whither  he  had  gone,  soon  after  his  re- 
turn to  Brussels,  to  receive  the  homage  of  his  new 
subjects.  Instead  of  following  the  example  of  Louis, 
who  had  treated  these  towns  with  particular  indul- 
gence, he  burdened  them  with  heavy  imposts.  This 
was  the  more  impolitic  as  they  had  already  given 
utterance  to  their  discontent  in  being  again  sepa- 
rated from  the  crown.  It  was  reported  also  that  the 
king  had  offered  a  part  of  Picardy  to  the  English  as 
the  price  of  a  permanent  peace.  Absurd  as  this 
rumor  was,  it  presented  the  count  of  Charolais  with 
an  occasion  for  venting  some  portion  of  his  ill-humor 
in  a  remonstrance  which  he  addressed  to  Louis. 
"  Monseigneur,"  he  wrote, "  I  have  received  informa- 

»"  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  pp.  254, 255.  —  De  Troyes,  p.  57. 


Pi^i 


CHAP.  Tin.] 


STATE  OF  DINAIfT. 


383 


tion  which,  if  true,  ill  accords  with  the  many  gracious 
words  you  have  recently  given  me  both  in  writing 
and  by  word  of  mouth.  Of  what  is  your  own,  Mon- 
geigneur,  you  can  dispose  according  to  your  good 
pleasure ;  but,  in  resptct  to  what  is  mine,  it  seems  to 
me  that  you  will  do  better  by  leaving  it  in  my  pos- 
session than  y  seeking  to  transfer  it  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemies  of  France.  I  pray  you,  therefore,  to 
put  an  entire  and  immediate  stop  to  such  overtures, 
and  so  to  act  that  I  may  still  have  reason  to  remain, 
as  with  all  my  heart  I  desire,  your  most  humble  ser- 
vant."^" This  letter,  dictated  by  spleen  and  disap- 
pointment, and  breathing  hostility  and  menace,  was 
written  at  Namur  on  the  16th  of  August,  when 
Charles  had  already  set  out  on  his  second  expedition 
into  the  principality  of  Li^ge. 

Fifteen  miles  south  of  Namur,  but  on  the  opposite 
bank  of  the  Meuse,  stands  Dinant,  a  place  of  some 
six  thousand  inhabitants.  The  limestone  cliff  behind 
it  rises  precipitously  to  a  height  of  several  hundred 
feet,  and  tapers  to  a  pinnacle  s^'^nnounted  by  a  citadel 
of  modern  construction.  Through  the  narrow  valley 
between  the  river  and  the  base  of  the  cliff  runs  a 


'"  Lettre  du  comte  de  Charolois, 
Duclos,  torn.  iii.  p.  231. — The  king's 
reply  —  commencing,  "  Tres-cher  et 
arac  fibre,"  grave,  earnest,  and  elab- 
orate in  its  disclaimers  and  denials, 
fortified  with  all  manner  of  argu- 
ments, and  referring  Charles  to  a 
special  embassy  despatched  at  the 
same  time  for  a  more  particular  ver- 


bal statement — is  an  admirable  ex- 
hibition of  assumed  simplicity.  It 
closes  with  a  characteristic  touch, 
expressive  of  injured  innocence  and 
wounded  honor.  "  Quand  v  ii  tel 
rapport  nous  eflt  dtd  fait  de  vous, 
nous  ne  I'eussions  pas  Idgcrement 
♦  cru  ne  voulu  croire."  Hist,  de  Bour- 
gogne,  torn.  iv.  pp.  346,  347. 


384 


\  i 


STATE  OF  DINANT. 


[book  t. 


Bingle  street,  of  lenfr*'^  id  width  sufficient  for  one 
of  the  principal  ;  ughfares  of  a  great  capital, 
but  lined  only  with  scattered  dwellings,  and  crossed 
only  by  short  lanes  that  lead  to  the  river's  side  — 
seeming  like  a  giant  trunk  which  has  been  stripped 
of  its  foliage  and  shorn  of  its  branches. 

In  the  fifteenth  century,  down  to  the  year  1466,  this 
was  the  site  of  a  populous  and  thriving  town,'''  inhab- 
ited by  a  race  of  industrious  artisans,  preeminent  for 
their  skill  in  the  manufactiu'e  of  copper.  The  excel- 
lence of  their  workmanship  is  attested  by  existing 
specimens  —  organ-screens,  baptismal  fonts,  and  other 
ecclesiastical  decorations.  But  the  fame  of  Dinant 
had  been  chiefly  spread  by  its  production  of  more 
common  and  useful  articles,  especially  of  kitchen 
utensils,  —  "pots  and  pans,  and  similar  wares,"  — 
which,  under  the  name  of  Dinanderie,  were  known  to 


"  Commines  calls  it  "ville  tres 
forte  dc  sa  grandeur,  ct  tres  riche ;  '• 
Duclcrcq,  "  la  plus  nche  ville  que  on 
sceust  et  la  plus  forte  j "  and  he  even 
asserts  that,  in  these  respects,  it  far 
surpassed  Liege  itself.  Theodoricus 
Paulus  applies  to  it  the  epithets «'  op- 
ulentissimum,  ditissimum  et  poten- 
tissimum ; "  and  Basin  speaks  of  it 
as  "  illud  superbum  et  opulentum 
Dinantum."  Its  fine  churches  and 
wealthy  monasteries  are  also  noticed, 
and  especially  its  great  foundries, 
with  machines  and  implements  worth 
a  hundred  thousand  florins. 

The  natural  features  of  the  locality 
show  that  in  extent  the  place  can 
never  greatly  have  exceeded  its  pres- 
ent limits.  But  the  population  was 
probably  dense,  and  several  subject 


towns  (Oachard,  Doc.  Indd.,  torn.  ii. 
p.  229,  et  al.)  contributed  to  the 
wealth  and  importance  of  Dinant. 
The  topographical  pcciUiarities  are 
well  described  in  the  interesting  pa- 
per of  M.  Adolphe  Borgnet,  (Annales 
de  la  Socidtd  Archdologique  de  Na- 
mur,  1853,)  whose  remark,  however, 
respecting  the  exaggerations  of  the 
chroniclers,  is  itself  a  much  more 
palpable  exaggeration.  They  do  not, 
as  he  pretends;  describe  "  a  second 
Nineveh."  iTiey  all  concur  in  rep- 
resenting Dinant  as  a  very  opulent 
town;  and  on  this  point  the  testi- 
mony of  persons  who  had  witnessed 
many  scenes  of  grandeur  and  pros- 
perity of  which  the  modem  Belgian 
'  perceives  only  the  signs  and  vestiges 
may  be  safely  accepted. 


OUAV.TIU.J 


STATE  OP  DINANT. 


385 


housewives  throughout  Europe,  being  regularly  ex- 
ported not  only  to  France  and  Germany,  but  to  Eng- 
land, Spain,  and  other  countries.**  With  England, 
especially,  Dinant  had  maintained  commercial  rela- 
tions for  several  centuries.  Its  traders  enjoyed  in 
that  kingdom  the  same  privileges  as  the  members 
of  the  Hanscatic  League ;  and  an  English  company 
had  long  been  established  in  the  town,  where  their 
nation  was  held  in  particular  esteem.** 

The  brass-founders  of  Dinant  held  the  same  posi- 
tion as  the  clothiers  at  Lou  vain  and  the  weavers 
at  Ghent.  They  formed  what  was  usually  called 
the  "  great  guild,"  and  were  a  kind  of  middle  class 
between  the  nine  inferior  guilds  and  the  merchants 
and  persons  of  independent  mean',  to  whom  the 
name  of  bourgeois  was  exclusively  gi .  on.**    This  was 


"  "  Ou^Taige8  de  cuivre  qu'on  ap- 
pcUe  Dinandcrie :  qui  sont  en  effect 
potz  et  poisles,  et  choses  semblnbles." 
Coramiiica,  torn.  i.  p.  1 14.  —  "  Lea 
bourp;cois  et  marchans  de  ccstc  ditte 
ville,"  say  the  magistrates  of  Dinant 
in  a  letter  to  Louis  XL,  "  ont  frd- 
quenlet  et  communiquiet  en  vostre 
(lit  roinlmc  et  ausi  ceulx  d'icellui  en 
iccUe,  et  cc  de  si  longtemps  que  point 
n'est  memore  du  contraire,  en  y  ex- 
erchans  marchandieses  par  espdcial 
de  denrces  appeldcs  batterie,  comme 
paelles,  bachlns,  chaudrons  et  autres, 
sur  laquelle  marchandiese  ceste  ditte 
ville  est  principallement  fondee  de 
grande  antiquitet,  laquelle  n'est  pas 
tant  seulement  exercde  ou  communi- 
quie  en  vostre  dit  roialme,  mais  ausi 
en  Espaigne,  Allemaingne,  Angle- 
VOL.  I.  49 


terre  et  en  pluscurs  aultrcs  marches 
et  pays."  Borgnet,  Sac  de  Dinant, 
Appendice,  VL 

'*  Borgnet,  Appendice,  L  —  Di- 
nant required  the  insertion  in  the 
treaties  with  Louis  of  a  clause  pro- 
viding against  the  danger  of  a  con- 
sequent rupture  of  its  commercial 
intercourse  and  friendly  relations, 
with  England. 

'*  "  Les  bourgeois  d'enmi  la  ville  " 
was  the  full  designation  of  this  class. 
"  Jjes  bourgeois  representaient  ce  pa- 
triciat  qui,  depuis  un  sibcle  environ, 
avait  ce8S(S  d'etre  un  element  prepon- 
derant," says  M.  Borgnet — an  elu- 
cidation which,  as  too  often  happens, 
leaves  the  reader  to  his  own  conjec- 
tures at  the  precise  point  where  a 
more  certain  light  is  wanted. 


38C 


STATE  OF  DINANT. 


[book  I. 


f-1 


not  only  a  social,  but  a  political  division,  each  of  tho 
three  cIjih-som  having  a  separate  and  equal  vote  in  the 
election  of  tlie  council  and  the  decision  of  such  ques- 
tions as  were  referred  by  the  council  to  the  popular 
assemblies. 

The  citiy.ens  of  Dinant  are  described  in  the  cliror- 
icles  and  other  writings  of  the  time  as  intoxicated 
by  the  pride  of  wealth  and  long-continued  prosperity; 
as  eagerly  rushing  into  hostilities  with  a  prince  whose 
superior  power  they  did  not  pause  to  estimate;  ns 
madly  tempting  a  doom  decreed  by  Heaven  as  the 
just  punishment  of  their  insensate  violence.  Such 
a  representation  of  a  people  assiduously  engaged  in 
the  arts  of  peace,  and  dependent  for  their  existence 
on  the  security  of  their  conmierce,  cannot  but  ap- 
pear strange.  Happily,  we  have,  on  this  subject, 
other  and  better  sources  of' information.  A  snuill 
portion  of  the  municipol  archives  of  Dinant  is  still 
in  existence.  Scanty  as  are  the  documents  thus 
brought  to  our  aid,  —  and  the  marvel  is,  not  that 
they  are  so  few,  but  that  even  these  should  have 
been  preserved,  —  they  afford  a  glimpse  at  the  inte- 
rior of  the  ill-fated  town,  and  excite  not  only  com- 
miseration but  respect  for  the  greater  number  of  its 
inhabitants.^ 

Far  from  plunging  headlong  into  war,  Dinant,  con- 
scious of  its  exposed  situation,  at  a  distance  from  its 


''I 


'*  The  discovery  and  publication 
of  this  interesting  series  of  docu- 
ments are  not  the  least  important  of 
the  many  and  vast  obligations  which 
M.  Gachard  has  conferred  upon  the 


student  of  Belgian  history.  He  has 
also  supplied  M.  Borgnet  with  some 
links  in  the  series  which  had  eluded 
his  own  earlier  researches. 


[book  I. 

on,  each  of  the 
qual  vote  in  the 
Qn  of  Huch  ques- 
1  to  the  popular 

)etl  in  the  chror- 
^c  as  intoxicated 
inued  prosperity, 
th  a  prince  whose 
;  to  estimate;  as 
,y  Heaven  as  the 
,  violence.     Such 
lously  engaged  in 
br  their  existence 
e,  cannot  but  ap- 
j,  on  this  subject, 
rmation.     A  small 
of  Dinant  is  still 
le  documents  thus 
.iarvel  is,  not  that 
[these  should  have 
impse  at  the  inte- 
■ite  not  only  com- 
later  number  of  its 

to  war,  Dinant,  con- 
la  distance  from  its 

if  Belgian  history.  He  has 
lUedM-BorgnetwithBome 
the  Beries  which  had  eluded 

LiUer  reseoiches. 


CHAP.  Tin.] 


STATE  OP  DINANT. 


387 


confederate  towns  and  almost  environed  by  the  do- 
minions of  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  waa  with  difficulty 
induced  to  join  the  alliance  against  him.     Although 
it  had  concurred  in  abjuring  the  authority  of  Louis 
of  Bourbon,  it  had  never  fallen  under  the  sway  of 
the  demagogues,  or  been  agitated  by  that  violent 
npiiit  which  convulsed  the  capital.     The  municipal 
government  pursued  its  ordinary  course  j  and,  what- 
ever may  have  been  the  inclinations  of  a  portion  of 
the  people,  the  magistrates  were  for  a  time  successful 
in  their  efforts  to  preserve  peace.     Dinant  was,'  in 
fact,  forced  into  the  contest  by  a  natural  consequence 
of  its  hostile  relations  with  Bouvignes.     The  latter 
place,  inferior  in  all  other  respects  to  its  rival,  exulted 
in  the  protection  of  a  powerful  soveroign  ready  to 
support  it  in  every  act  of  aggression.     In  this  quar- 
ter, therefore,  the  war  was  purely  a  local  matter,  the 
continuance  of  an  ancient  feud  stimulated  by  fresh 
provocations.     Even  the  insults  to  the  house  of  Biu*- 
gundy  were  really  aimed  at  a  far  lower  and  nearer 
mark.     The  people  of  Bouvignes  had  recourse  to 
similar  methods  of  exasperation.     They  hurled  over 
the  walls  of  Dinant  an  effigy  of  the  French  king,  ac- 
companying the  act  with  opprobrious  speeches,  which 
enraged  his  allies,  but  do  not  seem,  when  brought  to 
the  ears  of  Louis,  to  have  had  the  effect  of  disturbing 
his  equanimity.'" 

Yet  it  often  happens  that  the  report  of  an  event 
excites  a  stronger  sensation  than  was  felt  at  the  time 

"  Borgnet,  Appendice,  11.  —  In-    en  France,  Gaehard,  Doc.  Indd.,  torn, 
fltruction  pour  les  ddputds  envoyds    ii.  pp.  218-222. 


'.  ! 

'^   .  " 

If 


R!|,; 


:!;:.l 


J  «i, 


■ril':'ii^  J! 


fri 


888 


STATE  OP  DINANT. 


[book  I. 


of  its  occurrence  by  the  actors  or  spectators,  who  first 
become  aware  of  its  importance  when  made  acquaint- 
ed with  the  view  taken  of  it  at  a  distance.  Dinant 
was  unconscious  of  the  enormity  of  its  offence  until 
warned  by  its  sister  towns  to  lose  no  time  in  disa- 
vowing the  act  and  punishing  the  guilty  parties. 
Rumors  of  the  affair  had  flown  far  and  wide.  The 
people  of  Bouvignes,  indeed,  had  taken  care  that  the 
intelligence  should  be  carried  direct  to  the  persons 
most  concerned.  The  aged  and  good  duke  Philip 
wa»,  of  course,  violently  incensed ;  and  the  meek 
and  pious  Isabella,  quitting  her  conventual  retreat, 
vehemently  demanded  the  ruin  of  a  people  in  vin- 
dication of  her  spotless  virtue.^'' 

Dinant  was  naturally  startled  at  the  loud  echoes 
awakened  by  its  mimic  thunder,  and  an  embassy  was 
despatched  to  claim  assistance  from  the  French  king. 
He  was  requested  to  send  both  troops  and  artillery, 
as  well  as  a  "captain"  to  superintend  the  preparations 
for  resisting  an  attack.  This  was  in  the  latter  part 
of  September,  1465,  when  the  prospects  of  Louis  were 
at  their  darkest,  and  he  was  in  no  condition  to  afford 
aid  to  his  allies.  Yet  the  tidings,  shortly  after,  of  his 
having  concluded  a  peace,  had,  at  first,  the  effect  of 
quieting  their  apprehensions.  Were  they  not  ac- 
companied by  the  assurance,  under  his  own  hand, 


"  "  Est  falme  commune  que  tres  son  vaillant,  fera  ruynner  cestcdite 

haute  princesse  de  Bourgoingne,  Jl  villc,  en  metant  toutes  personnes  ii 

cause  desdites  injures,  at  conchut  I'espee :  pour  laquelle  chose  enten- 

telle  haynne  sur  cestedite  ville  de  dons  que  soit  Ji  I'Escluse."  Gachard, 

Dinant,  qu'elle  a  jure,  comme  on  Doc.  Indd.,  torn.  ii.  p.  222. 
dist,  que,  s'il  Ii  devoit  couster  tout 


CHAP.  VIII.] 


STATE  OF  DINANT. 


389 


the  loud  echoes 
1  an  embassy  was 
the  French  king, 
(ops  and  artillery, 
I  the  preparations 
n  the  latter  part 
3cts  of  Louis  were 
:ondition  to  afford 
lortly  after,  of  bis 
irst,  the  effect  of 
ere  they  not  ac- 
er  his  own  hand, 

It,  fera  ruynner  cestcdite 
etant  toutes  personnes  ii 
3ur  laquelle  chose  enten- 
oit  h,  I'Escluse."  Gachard, 
,  torn.  ii.  p.  222. 


that  the  people  of  Liege  had  the  option  of  becoming 
a  party  to  the  treaty  ?  '^  It  was  necessary,  indeed, 
that  they  should  make  a  proper  submission  to  the 
sovereign  whom  they  had  so  wantonly  attacked;  and 
the  citizens  of  Dinant,  with  more  real  unanimity  than 
those  of  the  capital,  embraced  the  offer  and  prepared 
to  comply  with  the  conditions.  Notice  was  [Nov. 
given  of  the  cessation  of  hostilities;  and,  i^^s.] 
although  the  people  of  Bouvignes  were  only  embold- 
ened by  this  announcement  to  renew  their  attacks, 
the  government  of  Dinant  would  not  suffer  any  re- 
prisals to  be  made,  but  contented  itself  with  calm 
and  dignified  remonstrances. 

Meanwhile  the  ringleaders  in  the  foolish  demonstra- 
tion imder  the  walls  of  Bouvignes  had  been  arrested 
and  secured.  One  of  them,  when  conveyed  to  prison, 
appealed  to  the  bystanders  with  the  famiUar  cry, 


"  The  desperate  situation  of  Louis 
must,  we  suppose,  be  accepted  as  a 
tiufficient  excuse  for  his  breach  of 
faith  iu  concluding  a  separate  treaty. 
Having  himself  been  compelled  to 
surrender  every  thing  demanded  by 
his  enemies,  he  could  only  recom- 
mend to  his  allies  the  same  unquali- 
fied submission.  His  language  indi- 
cates this  feeling  :  "  Sommes  tres 
fontcns  des  bona  termes  que  nous 
avez  tenus  en  ces  matiores.  .  .  . 
Toutes  voyes,  veu  que  I'appoincte- 
ment  est  prins  entre  nous  et  les  des- 
susditz,  et  mesmement  en  tout  ce 
qtii  puet  toucher  bel  onele  de  Bour- 
gonf,'ne  et  beau  frcre  de  Charolois, 
et  que  audit  appoinctement  estes 
comprins  conune  noz  bons  especi- 


aulx  amis,  et  comme  nous  avons  fait 
h  tons  noz  aultres  alliez  et  adhdrens ; 
nous  V0U8  prions  que  vueilliez  de- 
porter  et  desister  dc  la  guerre  que 
avez  encommenchie  es  pais  de  noa- 
ditz  oncle  et  beau  frcre.  Et  quant 
ainsy  ne  se  feroit,  veu  que  de  pre- 
sent la  guerre  cesse  par  (lie(;k  et  qu'il 
y  a  appoinctement  enti-e  nous  et 
les  dessusditz,  feroit  ti  doubter  que 
grossc  ann6e  et  puissance  de  gens 
tombast  sur  vostre  pais ;  dont  grans 
inconv^niens  pourroient  ensuir,  et  Hi 
quoy  seroit  difficile  chose  h  vous  de 
y  nJsister,  et  k  nous  de  vous  y  se- 
courir."  Lettre  du  Roi  aux  lidgois, 
Doc.  Inod.  sur  I'llist.  de  France,  Me- 
langes, torn.  ii.  p.  401. 


\  , 


390 


STATE  OF  DINANT. 


[book  I. 


It  :''■? 


,>  --i'li 


never  heard  with  indifference  by  the  burghers  of  a 
free  town,  "  Franchises !  to  the  rescue ! "  A  tumult 
arose.  The  prisoners  were  hberated  from  the  hands 
of  the  officers,  and  aided  in  making  their  escape; 
and  a  mob  having  collected  in  front  of  the  civic  hall, 
the  magistrates,  fearing  for  tlie  safety  of  those  who 
had  furnished  them  with  evidence,  destroyed  the 
depositions  and  abandoned  their  purpose.  A  few 
days  afterwards,  however,  a  message  was  received 
from  Liege  advising  its  ally  of  the  perils  which  it 
must  incur  by  affording  the  enemy  any  pretext  for 
continuing  the  war.  This  communication  having 
been  published,  the  magistrates,  backed  by  the  au- 
thority of  the  capital,  recovered  their  influence ;  and 
the  fugitives  were  again  seized  and  committed  to 
prison,  some  of  those  who  had  aided  in  the  rescue 
being  foremost  in  effecting  tlie  recapture.^' 

The  approach  of  the  count  of  Charolais  at  the 
head  of  a  powerful   army   speedily  dissipated   the 
hopes  founded  on  the  lying  assurances  of  the  French 
monarch.     Dinant,  it  was  bruited  abroad,  was  to  be 
the  first  object  of  attack ;  and  a  panic  fell  upon  the 
inhabitants,  such  as  is  felt  by  the  natives  of  an  Afri- 
can village  when  by  taunts  and  bravadoes  they  have 
drawn  the  lion  from  his  lair,  and  now  behold  Inm  in 
his  fury  preparing  to  spring. 
[Dec.        A  period  of  suspense  followed — two  months 
j^^'    of  anxiety,  of  terror,  of  ceaseless  prayers  and 
1466.]    efforts  to  avert  the  threatened  blow.     Letters 
and  messages  were  sent  in  all  directions,  to  invoke, 

"  Gachard,  Doc.  Incd.,  torn.  ii.  pp.  229-237. 


OBAP.  nil.] 


STATE  OF  DINANT. 


391 


not  succor  or  protection,  but  counsel,  sjmapathy,  the 
pleadings  of  some  friendly  voice:  and  the  warmth 
of  these  appeals  is  often  affectingly  contrasted  with 
the  formal  tone  of  even  the  moc^  favorable  replies. 
The  envoys  already  sent  having  failed  to  gain  ad- 
mittance to  the  Burgundian  princes,  the  strongest 
endeavors  were  made  to  secure  the  mediation  of 
persons  to  whom,  it  was  thought,  a  hearing  could 
hardly  be  denied.  The  abbot  of  Saint-Hubert  and 
other  high  ecclesiastics  residing  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Dinant  were  entreated  to  undertake  this  rais- 
eion  —  the  magistrates  representing  in  their  letters 
that  they  were  ready  to  make  all  possible  reparation 
for  an  act  which  they  had  always  disavowed  and 
which  they  bitterly  deplored,  and  stating  the  steps 
that  had  been  taken  with  a  view  to  the  punishment 
of  the  offenders.  Negotiations  were  also  opened  with 
some  of  the  Burgundian  nobles,  who,  as  it  seems, 
had  expressed  a  willingness  to  render  their  good 
offices  to  the  hapless  town  by  interceding  with  their 
stern  commander  on  its  behalf  The  agents  employed 
in  the  affair  were  supplied  with  the  means  that  might 
be  thought  the  most  effectual  for  stimulating  the  ex- 
ertions of  these  exalted  but  not  wholly  disinterested 
advocates — to  one  of  whom,  the  lord  of  Haubourdin, 
wo  find  the  magistrates  humbly  apologizing  for  an  un- 
avoidable delay  in  the  transmission  of  their  memorials, 
and  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  his  previous  intima- 
tion that  he  cannot  spend  much  time  in  their  affairs 


49 


**  '*  Pour  quoy,  nous  intimes  vous    que   porons,  cai    par  avcnture,  ne 
envoier  .  .  .  lesdis  noms  le  plus  brief    pores  mie  longuement  entendre  ne 


-  ! 


392 


STATE  OF  DINANT. 


[fook  X. 


w' 

i'i 


n 


.*     11  Mi 


Lastly,  the  people  of  Dinant  made  a  direct  appeal 
to  the  man  on  whose  single  will  depended  the  de- 
cision of  their  fate.  Their  supplication  —  addressed 
"  to  the  most  excellent,  high,  and  puissant  prince,  and 
most  redoubted  lord,  the  count  of  Charolais  "  —  was 
expressed  in  the  following  terms :  "  The  p  ^or,  humble, 
and  obedient  servants  and  subjects  of  the  most  rev- 
erend father  in  God,  Louis  of  Bourbon,  bishop  of 
Liege,  and  your  lUile  neighbors  and  borderers*^  the  bur- 
gomasters, council,  and  people  of  the  town  of  Dinant, 
humbly  represent,  that  it  has  come  to  their  knowl- 


vacquer  en  ceste  matifere."  Gachard, 
Doc.  Iiied.,  torn.  ii.  p.  270. 

The  tone  of  these  letters  is  the 
same  thiouj^hout  —  humble,  depre- 
catory, grateful.  The  matter  is 
equally  unvaried  —  the  same  assur- 
ances of  contrition,  the  same  offers 
of  atonement,  the  sai^e  prayer  for 
mercy :  unmanly,  perhaps,  in  a  sin- 
gle suppliant  pleading  for  himself, 
not  so  in  tliose  who  were  but  the 
channels  through  wliich  a  people, 
the  helpless  as  well  a3  the  suong, 
uttered  their  anguish  and  their  fears. 
"  Vous  prions  tant  cordialement  que 
poons  que,  jjour  honneur  et  reverence 
de  nostre  benoit  Createur,  veidlies 
ceste  nostre  presente  respcnce  avoir 
agreable,  en  aiant  pasience."  "  Ve- 
nerAle  et  religieux  en  Dieu,  .  .  . 
escripvons  pardevers  vous,  ..dvertis- 
sant  coi.  ment  par  jjluscurs  sommes 
informcs  que  tres  hauls  princes  et 
princesse  le  due  de  Bourgoingne, 
madame  sa  femme  et  mens,  de  Cha- 
rolois,  Icur  filz,  sent  tres  granJement 
indignes  sur  ceste  ville,  ii  cause  de 
certains  injurieux  parlcrs  par  aucunu 


d'icelle  profei'^s  touchant  leurs  per- 
sonnes ;  sur  quoy  vous  advertissous 
que  cestedite  ville  est  desdis  parlera 
araerement  dolente,  et  ne  veult  les 
deliuquans  en  riens  advoer ;  ains- 
chois  sont  trus  les  encoulpds  que  Ton 
apetrtrouvr  •apprehende8,et  sommes 
d'iceux  au  deseur,  pour  en  fixire  telle 
pugnicion  qu'il  appartenra."  "  Vous 
plaise  it  ce  tenir  la  main  que  puissons 
apaisier  le  couroux  de  mondit  sei- 
gneur de  Charolois,  en  recouvrant 
I'amour  de  lui :  en  quoy,  aveuc  ce 
que  feres  o.iivre  meritoire  Ji  Dicu, 
nous  feres  tres  singuler  plaisir,  dont 
i\  tosjours  vorons  avoir  memore,  pour 
le  rccognoistre  iv  nos  possibilites." 
"  Soions  tant  dolens  et  desplaisans 
que  plus  ne  poons,  et  ne  volons  les 
delinquans  en  riens  advoer,  aiiischois 
tons  les  coulpables  de  ce  que  Ten  a 
peu  tiouver  soient  apprehendcs,  pour 
en  faire  telles  pugnicions  et  execuci- 
ons  qu'il  plaira  k  leui  s  tres  excellentcs 
graces." 

*'  •'  Vous  petis  voisins  et  marchis- 
sans."  The  phrase  is  expressive, 
though  not  translatable. 


CHAP.  VIII.] 


STATE  OP  DINANT. 


393 


edge  that  the  indignation  of  your  most  noble  grace 
has  been  excited  against  the  said  town  on  account 
of  certain  injurious  words  spoken  by  some  of  the 
inhabitants  thereof  in  contempt  of  your  most  noble 
person ;  for  which  words  the  said  town  is  as  bitterly 
sorry  and  displeased  as  it  is  possible  to  be,  and,  far 
from  desiring  to  protect  the  delinquents,  has  caused 
to  be  apprehended  as  many  of  them  as  could  be 
found,  and  now  holds  them  in  durance,  awaiting  such 
sentence  and  such  punishment  as  your  n^ost  noble 
grace  may  be  pleased  to  decree ;  wherefore  your  pe- 
titioners, as  cordi.  Uy  and  affectionately  as  they  can, 
do  beseech  your  most  noble  and  excellent  grace  that, 
for  the  love  of  God,  you  will  be  pleased  to  suffer 
your  anger  to  be  appeased,  holding  the  generality  of 
the  people  of  the  said  town  of  Dinant  excused,  and 
resting  satisfied  with  the  punishment  of  the  guilty, 
inasmuch  as  the  said  people  are  bitterly  grieved  on  ac- 
count of  the  said  injurious  words,  and  have,  as  before 
stated,  apprehended  the  persons  of  the  culprits.  And, 
in  respect  to  any  further  offence  or  failure  of  duty 
by  which  the  people  of  the  said  town  have  incurred 
your  grace's  displeasure,  in  making  war  upon  the 
territory  of  your  grace's  father,  the  most  ex'^ellent, 
high,  and  puissant  prince,  my  lord  the  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, may  it  now  please  your  grace  to  cause  hostil- 
ities to  cease,  and  to  admit  the  said  town  to  terms 
of  peace  along  with  the  city  of  Li^ge  and  the  other 
towns,  accepting  from  it  such  offers,  indemnifications, 
and  promises  of  obedience  as  his  grace  the  duke  of 
Burgundy  may  be   pleased  to  accept  from  them; 


VOL.  1. 


50 


§    11    ■    '! 


,  I 


394 


STATE  OP  DINANT. 


[book  I. 


and  in  so  doing  your  grace  will  do  well  and  char- 
itably, and  your  said  poor  and  humble  petitioners 
will  ever  pray  to  God  for  you  and  for  your  most 
noble  lineage."  ** 

These  entreaties,  piteous  and  even  abject  in  their 
tone,  were  received  only  with  a  cold  and  disdainful 
silence.  The  intercessions  of  the  abbots  and  other 
friendly  envoys,  who  had  followed  the  movements  of 
the  army,  and  attended  the  morning  and  evening  re- 
ceptions of  the  Burgundian  leader,*^  proved  equally 
ineffectual.  One  after  a^iother  they  returned,  bringing 
with  them  no  word  of  encouragement  or  hope."  The 
nobles  in  the  camp  speedily  wearied  of  a  suit  in 
which  tl'.'jir  zeal,  it  is  probable,  had  never  been  very 
ardent  or  sincere,  or  which  had  perhaps  been  under- 
taken with  the  mere  object  of  extorting  monej' ;  and 
some  of  them  were  even  base" enough  to  make  pris- 
oners of  the  agents  sent  to  them  by  the  town,  de- 
spoiling them  of  tliei':  property  and  exacting  a  pledge 
of  ransom  before  their  release.*'^ 

In  its  extremity,  Dinant  turned  a  beseeching 
glance  upon  the  ally  by  whom  it  had  already  been 


m 


*'  Gachard,  Doc.  Indd.,  torn.  ii. 
pp.  2r>4,  255. 

*^  "  En  alant  i\  coiichior  et  lever 
dudit  tres  excellent  prince,  icelle  so- 
licitant."    Ibid.,  p.  253. 

**  "  Retournont  messire  I'abbd  de 
Florine,  sez  famillez  et  }Iaro)',  les- 
quelx  n'ont  rien  besoingniet."  "  Xo- 
ble  et  honnourc  damoisiau  Leys  de 
la  Marche,  habandonnant  .  .  .  de  la- 
bourer envers  monseigneur  de  Cha- 
rolois,"  &c.    Ibid.,  pp.  263,  268. 


*°  "  Non  obstant  que,  par  noz  Ict- 
tres  precedentez,  voz  avons  escrii)t 
que  Jeban  de  Meurse,  seigneur  do 
Harse,  les  avoit  fait  tres  grant  avance- 
ment  et  jjlaisir,  entendons  presente- 
ment  audit  Ilaroy  que  lui  misme, 
avec  autres,  lez  a  prins  prisonnier, 
hostant  au  pater  et  audit  Ilaroy  lours 
chcvaulx,  et  avec  ce  est  ledit  pater 
ranchonnc  a  ung  marc  d'oigent." 
Lettre  des  Diaantais  h  leurs  deputes 
il  Liege. 


CHAP.  VIII.] 


STATE  OP  DINANT. 


395 


deserted  and  deceived.  An  embassy  was  sent  to  the 
French  monarch,  to  remind  him  that  tlie  war  had 
been  undertaken  at  his  solicitation  and  in  full  reli- 
ance on  his  royal  word  that  he  would  make  no  sepa- 
rate treaty  with  the  common  enemy.  Subsequently 
he  had  by  his  own  letters  and  by  tlie  declarations  of 
his  messengers  informed  the  people  of  Dinant  that 
they  were  embraced  in  the  treaty  which  he  had  found 
it  necessary  to  conclude ;  and  he  had  required  them 
to  abstain  from  further  acts  of  hostility.  This  course 
they  had  hastened  to  adopt;  and,  notwithstanding 
the  provocations  they  had  since  received,  they  had 
scrupulously  adhered  to  it.  They  had  also  offered 
reparation  for  whatever  offences  they  had  committed 
against  the  duke  of  Burgundy  and  his  son.  But,  far 
from  having  effected  an  arrangement  upon  this  basis, 
they  had  not  even  been  able  to  obtain  a  safe-conduct 
for  the  representatives  to  whom  they  had  intrust- 
ed the  negotiation.  On  the  contrary,  they  had  re- 
ceived intelligence,  confirmed  daily  by  fresh  reports, 
that  their  town  would  in  a  short  time  be  assailed  by 
an  irresistible  force.  Since,  then,  after  God,  his  "royal 
majesty"  was  their  only  hope  and  refuge,  they  most 
earnestly  besought  him,  in  consideration  of  the  an- 
cient friendship  and  singular  affection  which,  from  a 
time  beyond  the  memory  of  man,  they  had  always 
shown  for  the  crown  of  France,  —  or  even  from  mere 
charili/  and  pit//,  —  to  interest  himself  in  their  behalf, 
so  that  the  princes  of  Burgundy  might  be  induced, 
out  of  regard  and  respect  for  his  most  noble  person, 
to  pardon  the  injuries  they  had  received,  or  at  least 


11 
J 

I 


I, 


m 


.  ;i!! 


396 


STATE  OF  DINANT. 


[book  I, 


to  accept  the  proffered  amends  as  the  conditions  of 


40 


peace 

It  does  not  appear  that  Louis  took  the  least  notice 
of  tliis  appeal  —  that  he  either  replied  to  it  or  acted 
upon  it.  In  fact,  any  intervention  of  the  kind  sug- 
gested would,  at  the  moment,  have  been  extremely 
inconvenient.  The  sacrifice  of  Lidge  and  of  Dinant 
was  the  price  he  must  pay  for  the  recovery  of  Nor- 
mandy. In  a  military  point  of  view  it  served  the 
purpose  of  a  diversion,  keeping  the  strongest  and 
most  resolute  of  his  enemies  at  a  distance,  and  placing 
the  weakest  and  least  capable  at  his  mercy.  In 
the  way  of  diplomacy,  what  plea  could  he  advance 
against  the  proceedings  of  his  cousin  of  Charolais 
that  would  not  be  retorted  with  tenfold  force  against 
his  own?  Moreover,  his  hands  were  in  a  manner 
tied  by  his  newly  formed  alliance  with  the  duke  of 
Bourbon.  It  was  the  brother  of  this  prince,  the  bishop 
of  Liege,  whose  cause  the  house  of  Burgundy  was 
supporting  against  his  rebellious  subjects. 

The  only  hope  now  left  was  that  the  other  towns 
would  remain  true,  refusing  to  accept  a  treaty  from 
which  Dinant  was  excluded.  Assurances  to  this  effect 
were  daily  received.*''  When,  therefore,  rumor,  anti- 
cipating the  fact,  asserted  that  a  treaty  of  this  kind 


*•  Gachard,  Doc.  Indd.,  torn.  ii. 
pp.  280-282. 

*'  These  assurances  were  contin- 
ued after  the  treaty  had  been  actu- 
ally ratified  at  Liege.  (Gachard,  Doc. 
Indd.,  torn.  ii.  pp.  313,  318,  et  al.) 
The  explanation  of  this  fact  is  to  be 


found  in  the  peculiar  complications 
then  existing.  Under  the  pressure 
of  necessity  the  people  of  the  capi- 
tal had  consented  to  the  treaty,  and 
its  action  was  apparently  controlled 
by  the  moderate  party.  But  the  gov- 
ernment elected  at  an  earlier  period. 


CHAP.  Till.] 


STATE  OF  DINANT. 


397 


had  actually  been  signed,  the  despair  and  rage  of  the 
people  broke  forth  with  irrepressible  violence.  The 
prisons  were  forced,  and  the  persons  whose  folly  had 
brought  such  heavy  calamities  on  the  town  were 
again  liberated.  Yet,  after  this  first  burst  of  despe- 
ration, the  magistrates,  whose  conduct  throughout  a 
long  period  of  trials  and  perplexities  claims  our  admi- 
ration, once  more  succeeded  in  restoring  order  and  in 
recalling  their  fellow-townsmen  to  that  prudent  line 
of  conduct  in  which  lay  their  only  chance  of  redemp- 
tion.*® The  difficulties,  however,  of  their  situation  were 
becoming  daily  more  complicated.  The  town  was 
filled  with  strangers.  Tlie  "  Companions  of  the  Green 
Tent"  and  other  proscribed  exiles,  rightly  discerning 
in  the  reestablishment  of  the  episcopal  authority  un- 
der the  avowed  protection  of  the  house  of  Burgundy 
their  own  sentence  of  extermination,  now  flocked  to 
Dinant,**  which,  from  the  circumstance  of  its  equal 
peril,  had  become  the  asylum  of  these  outcasts,  and 
was  still  further  compromised  by  their  presence. 

At  the  last  moment,  when  the  count  of  Charolais 
was  on  the  point  of  quitting  the  principality,  he 
deigned  to  cast  an  eye  upon  the  kneeling  suppli- 


and  composed  of  the  heads,  or,  more 
properly,  of  the  tools  of  the  revolu- 
tionary faction,  were  still  in  oiRce. 
Their  signatures  had  been  affi  ted  to 
tlie  "  Piteous  Peace,"  but  the;  had 
no  intention  of  executing  its  condi- 
tions. It  was  only  necessary  to  re- 
mind the  people  that  their  confeder- 
ates had  been  deserted  or  betrayed 
to  reawaken  the  spirit  of  resistance. 
Accordingly^,  on  the  2l8t  of  January, 


the  very  day  on  which  the  treaty  was 
signed  by  the  count  of  Charolais,  a 
popular  assembly  was  held  at  Liege, 
and  a  resolve  passed  to  make  com- 
mon cause  with  Dinant.  (Ibid.,  p. 
323.) 

*'  Oachard,  Doc.  Ined.,  torn.  ii. 
pp.  283,  284. 

*'  Adrianus  de  Veteri-Bosco,  Am- 
pliss.  Col.,  torn.  iv.  p.  1292. 


398 


STATE  OF  DINANT. 


[book  I. 


!:i!l! 


11 


i|!;i; 


fii 


cants  at  his  feet.  He  granted  Dinant  a  truce  of  eight 
days,  afterwards  extended  to  May,  146G;  and  in  the 
interval  it  was  presented  with  the  project  of  a  treaty 
specifying  the  conditions  on  which  it  might  expect 
mercy.  This  fact,  unnoticed  by  any  contemporary  his- 
torian, is  established  beyond  a  doubt  by  several  docu- 
ments in  the  series  to  which  allusion  has  been  already 
made.  Unfortunately,  we  are  left  in  complete  igno- 
rance as  to  the  nature  of  the  requisitions.  They 
are  described  in  a  letter  of  the  magistrates  as  "  ex- 
cessively stringent,  cand  indeed  almost  impossible  to 
execute.'""*  Compliance  with  them  was  regarded  by 
the  people  as  involving  "  perpetual  servitude."  Such 
expressions  do  not  seem  applicable  to  the  imposition 
of  a  fine,  however  It'rge,  or  to  a  demand  for  the  sur- 
render of  the  persons  most  obnoxious  to  the  house 
of  Burgundy  —  suggested  hy  some  writers  as  the 
probable  grounds  on  which  the  treaty  was  reject- 
ed.*^ Doubtless  it  contained  stipulations  on  both 
these  points ;  but  Dinant,  as  we  have  seen,  h.'id  itself 
offered  to  I'^ave  to  the  Burgundian  princes  the  pun- 


*"  Lettre  des  Dinantais  Ji  Louis 
XL,  Gachard,  Doc.  Incd.,  torn.  ii. 
p.  337. 

"'  Gachard,  Doc.  Incd.,  torn.  ii. 
p.  337,  note.  —  Borgnet,  Sac  de  Di- 
nant, p.  20.  —  Michelet,  while  adopt- 
ing the  conjecture  of  Gachard,  per- 
ceives, nevertheless,  that  the  ques- 
tion was  debated  as  one  in  which 
the  communal  liberties  were  con- 
cerned. "Justice  devait  se  faire. 
Mais  pouvait-elle  se  faire  par  un 
souverain  etranger,  h,  qui  la  ville  eflt 
livre,  non  les  prisonniers  seulement, 


mais  elle-mCme,  son  plus  prdcieux 
droit,  son  <5pec  de  justice  ?  "  (Hist, 
de  France,  torn.  vi.  p.  202.)  But 
nothing  can  be  more  explicit  than 
the  offer  of  the  municipal  govern- 
ment —  comprising  members  chosen 
from  each  of  the  three  classes  that 
formed  the  community  —  to  deliver 
up  the  offenders :  "  Trouvons  h,  con- 
seil  d'envoier  envers  lesdis  princes 
eulx  notifiant  et  habandonnant  des- 
dis  delinquans  faire  telle  pugnicion 
que  leur  plaira." 


CHAP.  Till.] 


STATE  OF  DINANT. 


399 


Lsliment  of  their  defttincrs ;  and  the  payment  of  an 
enormous  sum  by  way  of  indemnification  had  formed 
one  of  the  conditions  of  the  "  Piteous  Peace,"  which 
Liege  had  accepted,  and  to  which  Dinant  would  most 
ghidly  have  been  a  party.  To  us  it  seems  more 
probable  that  the  rulers  of  the  Netherlands,  follow- 
ing tlieir  invariable  practice  in  the  treatment  of 
their  own  rebellious  towns,  demanded  the  surren- 
der of  the  municipiil  charters  of  Dinant,  and  such 
a  modification  of  its  privileges  as  should  deprive 
the  mass  of  the  inhabitants  of  any  voice  in  the  gov- 
ernment. It  appears  that  the  wealthier  classes  — 
the  houryeois  and  the  great  guild  —  were  willing  to 
accept  the  treaty,  while  it  was  strenuously  opposed 
by  the  inferior  guilds.  The  case  would  probably 
have  been  reversed  had  the  levy  of  a  fine  —  in  other 
words,  an  augmentation  of  the  taxes  —  given  occa- 
sion for  the  disagreement;  whereas,  if  we  suppose 
the  extinction  of  the  democratic  element  in  the  polit- 
ical system  to  have  been  the  penalty  imposed,  it  was 
perfectly  natural  that  the  resistance  should  have  been 
confined  to  the  lower  classes,  on  whom  alone  a  pen- 
alty of  this  nature  would  have  fallen,  while  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  conceive  how  a  penalty  of  any  other  nature 
shovdd  have  fallen  on  them  alone.  The  Burgundian 
princes  had  been  entreated  to  content  themselves 
with  the  punishment  of  the  guilty;  it  was  by  the 
lower  orders,  or  by  a  portion  of  them,  that  the  offence 
had  been  committed ;  and  it  is  at  least  certain  tbat 
they  were  the  chief,  if  not  the  exclusive,  objects  of 
the  intended  chastisement.    For  we  find  their  fellow- 


\.'.  ...1            ;.    ,' 

IkMi 

400 


STATE  (3F  DIXANT. 


[book  t. 


[Apr.  22,  townsmen,  in  ^he  discussions  which  took 
HGfl.]  place,  deprecating  the  idea  that  they  were 
influenced,  in  their  su^  port  of  the  treaty,  hy  any 
advantngo.s  wliich  they  .might  themselvcH  expect  to 
derive  froiii  it.  They  do  not  deny  the  sacrifice  wliich 
it  entailn.  But  is  it  not  better,  they  ask,  to  submit  to 
a  partial  and  definite  sacrifice  than  to  incur  the  liiizard 
of  total  destruction  ?  If  a  ship  be  in  danger  of  wreck, 
shall  we  not  throw  over  the  cargo  ?  If  a  house  be  on 
fire,  shall  v.'e  not  destroy  a  part  to  save  the  remaiiuler? 
"What  oppression  can  be  worse  than  the  continuance 
of  a  hopeless  struggle  ?  By  what  other  meauH  is  it 
possible  to  evade  the  impending  calamities?  ITow  is 
Dinant  to  resist  a  power  to  which  Li(^ge  has  submit- 
ted—  to  which  the  king  of  France  himself  has  been 
obliged  to  succumb?  If  it  be  contended  that  one 
portion  of  the  people  ought  not  to  aid  in  reducing 
the  others  to  ubjection,  still  less  ought  any  portion 
to  insist  upon  bringing  absolute  ruin  upon  all.*'^ 


M\ 


*'  Lettre  de  la  b  --eoisie  et  du 
metier  des  battcur  <  de  Dinant,  tou- 
chant  le  dissentinieut  existant  entre 
eux  et  les  neuf  bona  metiers,  Ga- 
chard,  Doc.  lued.,  torn.  ii.  pp.  363- 
369. 

"  Cette  lettre,"  remarks  the  editor, 
"  est  la  derniore  piece  contenue  dans 
le  repistre  de  Dinant.  II  est  fTicbeux 
que  Ton  n'ait  point  les  actes  posteri- 
eurs,  jusquW  la  destruction  de  la 
ville."  But  an  extract  which  he  pro- 
ceeds to  cite  from  an  earlier  letter 
suggests  a  reason  for  his  having 
failed  to  discover  any  later  docu- 
ments of  the  kind,  and,  in  connec- 


tion with  other  facts,  renders  it  ex- 
tremely doubtful  whether  any  regular 
government  was  maintained  in  Di- 
nant during  the  Inst  fo^v  months  of 
its  existence.  "  Nous  faisons  grans 
doubtes  que  ne  puissons  estre  mais- 
tres  du  grant  nombre  d'estraingiers 
qui  sont  icy  soubz  umbre  d'estre  en- 
voyds  de  pur  la  cite  pour  la  garde  de 
la  ville,  dont  entcndons  que  les  plu- 
seurs  sont  expidst's  et  bannis  tant 
de  ladite  cite,  comme  bonne  ville  de 
Huy,  pour  leurs  demerittes,  et  ne 
sont  pas  envoycs  par  election,  non 
obstant  que  soient  ausi  grant  nom- 
bre ou  plus  que  les  esleus." 


OBAP.  VIII.] 


STATE  OF  DINANT. 


401 


But,  whatever  were  the  terms  ovi  which  grnce  was 
oflered,  neither  tliese  arguiiionts  in  their  I'avor,  nor 
the  will  of  tlie  majority  of  the  citizens,  to  whicii  on 
ordinary  occasions  that  of  the  minority  must  have 
yielded,  were  sufficient,  in  the  present  crisis,  to  se- 
cure their  acceptance.  The  outlawed  bands  who  iiad 
made  Dinant  their  head-quarters  incited  the  populace 
to  continued  resistance  and  to  fresh  outbreaks.  The 
authority  of  the  magistrates  was  completely  set  aside. 
In  the  capital  the  revolutionary  party  had  long  since 
recovered  its  ascendancy.  As  soon  as  the  Burgundian 
army  had  taken  its  departure  the  demagogues  crept 
from  their  hiding-places,  again  assembled  their  myr- 
midons around  them,  and,  with  baseness  and  cruelty 
characteristic  of  coward  minds,  impeached  and  put 
to  death  the  persons  by  whom  the  treaty  had  been 
negotiated,  on  the  false  and  idle  pretext  that  they 
had  exceeded  their  instructions.*' 

The  towns  now  entered  into  a  new  alliance  for 
mutual  defence ;  **  and,  in  spite  of  their  past  expe- 


"  Adrianus  de  Veteri-Bosco,  Am- 
pliss.  Col.,  torn.  iv.  p.  1285,  et  al. — 
Johannes  de  Los,  p.  36.  —  Polain, 
Hist,  de  Lit'ge,  torn.  ii.  p.  3()4,  et 
seq.  —  On  the  scaffold  Gillcs  de  Metz 
invoked  the  compassion  of  the  peo- 
ple, reminding  them  of  his  long  ser- 
vices and  gray  hairs,  offering  to  re- 
tire to  a  monastery,  tc  give  up 
his  proj)erty,  &c.  His  apix;al  was 
seconded  by  the  avov',  (an  officer 
whose  duties  somewhat  resembled 
those  of  a  sheriff;)  but  Ilaes  de 
Heers,  who  eat  at  a  window  ever- 
VOL.  I.  61 


looking  the  square,  was  seen  to  smile, 
and  one  of  the  burgomasters  calling 
out  that "  the  city  did  not  sell  its  lib- 
erties," the  victim  perceived  the  fruit- 
lessness  of  his  prayers,  and  Bubmit- 
ted  to  the  stroke. 

'♦  De  Ram,  Analecta  Lcodiensia, 
p.  557,  et  seq.  —  The  instrument  re- 
capitulates the  sentence  passed  on 
Gilles  de  Metz  and  his  associates, 
which  is  chiefly  based  on  their  ac- 
ceptance of  a  treaty  exchuling  Di- 
nant. Yet  that  treaty  had  been  rat- 
ified by  the  solemn  vote  of  Liege. 


! 


■  :  1 

f 

If 

:%■    ij 

' 

■ii 

402 


STATE  OF  DINANT. 


[book  I. 


rience,  they  confidently  imagined  that  they  should 
receive  support  and  assistance  from  the  French  king. 
Louis  might  well,  in  fact,  have  been  expected  to 
strike  a  blow  on  their  behalf.  Normandy  had  been 
regained ;  a  great  army  was  assembled  on  the  fron- 
tiers. BuL,  having  thus  achieved  a  triumph  and 
secured  his  new  position,  he  could  not  bring  him- 
self to  plunge  at  once  into  fresh  perils  for  the  mere 
sake  of  his  allies.  The  effect,  indeed,  of  the  meas- 
ures by  which  he  had  retrieved  his  own  safety, 
was  to  increase  the  certainty  of  their  ruin.  By  the 
seizure  of  Normandy  he  had  excited  to  its  highest 
pitch  the  wrath  of  the  count  of  Charolais;  and  by 
the  precautions  which  he  had  taken  he  had  averted 
from  his  own  head  the  consequences  of  that  wrath. 
So  much  the  heavier  would  it  fall  upon  his  allies. 
Retiring  from  the  Somme,  "where  he  had  found 
himself  confronted  by  a  foe  who  was  unassailable, 
the  Burgundian  prince  turned  his  arms  against  one 
who  was  all  but  defenceless  —  vowing  so  to  consum- 
mate his  vengeance  that  it  should  be  no  longer  said, 
on  the  borders  of  the  Meuse,  "  There  is  Dinant,"  but 
— "  There  Dinant  2(;as  / " 


'^i  iir 


IP,    ^  '"■  u 

Ifill 


CHAPTER    IX. 

FATE  OP  DIKANT.  —  SUBMISSION  OF   LIEGE.  —  DEATH   OF   PHILIP 

THE   GOOD. 

1466,  1467. 


Change  was  impending  over  the  vassals  of  the 
house  of  Burgundy ;  its  approaches  were  visible, 
its  influence  was  already  felt.  A  long  period  of 
tranquillity,  interrupted  only  by  civic  mutiny  or 
the  excitement  of  a  border  raid,  had  reached  its 
close.  Twice  in  a  single  year  had  the  nobles  been 
summoned  to  the  field ;  and  now,  after  an  interval 
of  a  few  months,  they  were  again  commanded,  under 
pain  of  death  and  confiscation,  to  assemble  in  arms 
with  their  servants  and  retainera  A  new  spirit,  a 
stern  and  martial  spirit,  impatient  of  festive  ease  and 
idle  shows,  had  taken  possession  of  the  government 
and  begun  to  direct  its  policy.  Adieu  the  halcyon 
days  of  peace  and  pomp,  of  idlene&s  and  luxury,  that 
had  given  to  the  sovereign  under  whom  they  had 
been  enjoyed  the  title  of  "  the  Good ! " 

Philip's  reign,  which  had  now  lasted  forty-seven 

(403) 


404 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


[book  1. 


il  M 


'X  il  '■• 


faliil 


II 


years,  was  draAving  to  its  end.  It  was  a  reign  re- 
garded by  his  subjects  as  full  of  glory.  Among  the 
princes  of  his  time  none  had  occupied  so  conspicuous 
an  eminence  as  the  "  Great  Duke  of  the  Occident." 
Golden  pens  had  celebrated  his  power  and  his  mag- 
nificence, his  triumphs  over  the  proud,  his  generosity 
to  the  vanquished.  Touched  with  pity  for  distracted 
France,  he  had  listerned  to  her  supplications,  and 
sheathed  his  victorious  sword.  He  had  paid  the  ran- 
som of  the  duke  of  Orleans,  the  son  of  his  father's 
enemy,  rescued  him  from  his  captivity  in  England, 
and  lavished  on  him  marks  of  favor  and  distinction. 
He  had  given  shelter  to  the  exiled  son  of  France, 
nourished  him  in  his  indigence,  and  led  him  to  the 
throne.  He  had  added  nine  provinces  to  his  inherited 
dominions.  His  fleets  had  traversed  the  Mediterra- 
nean, spreading  fear  among  Ihe  enemies  of  Christen- 
dom. He  had  heaped  together  a  priceless  treasure, 
yet  no  prince  had  been  so  profuse  in  gifts  or  expen- 
diture. Thrice  he  had  refused  the  office  of  emperor, 
and  more  than  once  the  title  of  king.  He  had  re- 
stored the  fading  splendors  of  chivalry,  and  had 
founded  an  order  of  knighthood  which  was  an  object 
of  aspiration  to  the  proudest  nobles  of  every  land. 
His  person  and  character  had  been  in  hannony  with 
his  position,  had  fitted  him  for  the  first  part  in  daz- 
zling and  imposing  scenes  —  at  the  banquet,  in  the 
tourney,  and  on  the  dais  of  the  hall  of  state.^ 

But  all  this  belonged  to  the  past.   Philip  no  longer 

'  See  the  enumeratir,.!  of  his  "  glories"  in  the  iiloge  of  Chastellaui. 


liijiii; 


CHAP.  IX.] 


FATE  OF  DDIANT. 


405 


appeared  before  the  eyes  of  his  subjects  as  the  living 
personification  of  the  princely  character ;  the  world 
no  longer  moved  by  the  direction  of  his  imperious 
Avill.  Enfeebled  in  body  and  mind  by  successive 
attacks  of  apoplexy,  he  had  gradually  become  inca- 
pable of  exercising  the  real  functions  of  sovereignty, 
though  he  still  retained  the  semblance  of  authority, 
and  was  still  at  times  roused  from  the  sluggishness  of 
disease  into  one  of  those  vehement  bursts  of  passion 
to  which  he  had  ever  been  subject  in  even  a  greater 
degree  than  the  other  princes  of  his  line. 

Sitting,  one  day,  at  dinner,  in  the  beginning  of 
July,  1466,  he  was  displeased  that  a  favorite  dish  had 
not  been  set  before  him.  Ordering  the  comptrollers 
of  his  household  to  be  summoned,  he  inquired  the 
cause  of  this  omission,  and  was  told,  in  reply,  that  it 
was  in  accordance  with  directions  given  by  his  physi- 
cians. Turning  to  some  noblemen  who  were  present, 
he  asked  whether  the  troops  had  assembled  that  had 
been  levied  for  the  expedition  against  Dinant.  The 
answer  was  that  as  yet  there  were  no  signs  of  warlike 
preparation;  that,  during  the  last  campaign,  the  men- 
at-arms  had  received  only  a  part  of  their  pay,  and 
that  many  of  the  nobles  were  too  much  impoverished 
to  furnish  the  equipments  necessary  for  their  followers. 
"And  why  have  these  not  been  supplied?"  demanded 
the  duke.  "  I  have  given  orders  on  my  treasury  for 
the  requisite  sums.  Are  my  commands  no  longer 
obeyed  ?  Ani  I,  then,  forgotten  /"  Rising,  as  his  anger 
reached  its  climax,  he  overthrew  the  table,  with  the 
service  that  had  provoked  his  discontent,  and  seemed 


'1 

If,  '     < 


406 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


[book  I. 


m 


about  to  seek  some  fresh  object  on  which  to  vent  his 
wrath.  But  the  next  moment  he  fell  senseless  on 
the  floor,  his  limbs  paralyzed,  his  features  distortecl. 
The  efforts  made  for  his  restoration  wore,  however, 
successful ;  and,  after  a  short  confinement,  he  again 
left  his  chamber.^ 

From  this  near  interview  with  Death  he  came 
back  to  the  world,  his  faculties  still  further  shattered, 
but  one  recollection,  one  purpose,  engraven  more 
deeply  than  ever  on  his  mind.  The  crimes  of  Dinant 
were  still  unpunished ;  an  unforgiven,  inexpiable  in- 
sult was  to  be  wiped  out  before  the  expiration  of  the 
brief  term  for  which  his  lease  of  life  had  been  ex- 
tended. He  resolved  to  be  present  in  person  at  the 
execution  of  this  act  —  the  last  in  which  his  name 
was  to  figure  before  the  world.  Before  setting  out 
he  caused  the  papal  bull  by  which  sentence  of  ex- 
communication had  been  issued  against  the  people 
of  Liege,  and  in  which  he  himself  was  invited  to  aid 
in  reducing  them  to  submission,  to  be  affixed  to  the 
gates  of  the  principal  towns.  With  this  sanction  on 
his  enterprise,  what  earthly  power  would  dare  to 
interpose  and  prevent  its  accomplishment  ? 

Philip  performed  the  journey  in  a  litter  drawn  by 
horses.  On  the  14th  of  August  he  arrived  at  Namur, 
which,  from  the  convenience  of  its  position,  had  been 
appointed  as  the  place  where  the  army  was  to  muster. 
All  the  chiefs  who  had  served  in  the  previous  cam- 
paign again  made  their  appearance,  having  forgotten 
their  grievances  on  learning  that  their  sovereign,  for 

*  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  261. 


iiani 

his 

lioai 

be, 

lon< 

sad, 

town 

arch; 


CUAf .  IX.] 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


407 


whom  their  loyal  affection  was  unbounded,  was  to 
take  the  field  in  person.  Even  Saint-Pol,  whose  re- 
lations with  the  count  of  Charolais  had  begun  to 
assume  a  dubious  aspect,  and  who,  as  constable  of 
France,  should  have  been  in  attendance  on  the  king 
while  the  latter  was  hhnself  engaged  in  military  op- 
erations, did  not  deem  it  pr.;"er  to  plead  this  excuse 
on  an  occasion  that  so  closely  concerned  the  honor 
of  the  prince  who  was  the  first  and  the  nearest  object 
of  his  allegiance. 

The  count  of  Charolais  having  assumed  the  com- 
mand, the  army  began  its  march.  Crossing  the  Meuse 
at  Namur,  it  continued  its  course  up  the  right  bank 
of  the  stream,  the  side  on  which  lay  the  object  of  its 
destination.  In  the  mean  time,  Philip,  attended  onh' 
by  a  small  escort,  pursued  his  journey  along  the  op- 
posite shore  until  he  reached  Bouvignes,  a  station 
from  which  he  could  command  an  ample  view  of  the 
intended  operations.' 

Dinant  lay  before  him.  Its  streets,  still  alive  with 
the  bustle  of  an  industrious  people,  were  fully  ex- 
posed to  his  gaze ;  the  very  clang  of  its  ponderous 
hammers,  wielded  by  stalwart  arms,  fell  loud  upon 
his  ear:  the  smoke  from  hundreds  of  hearths  — 
hearths  where  women,  anxious,  trembling,  it  might 
be,  were  still  occupied  with  the  cares  that  be- 
long to  every  day  of  human  existence,  however 
sad,  however  awful  —  curled  upwards  in  his  sight 
towards  the  overshadowing  cliff,  towards  the  over- 
arching   heaven.      Thither    doubtless,   too,   unseen. 


Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  pp.  266-268.  —  Haynin,  torn.  i.  pp.  66,  67. 


408 


FATE  OF  DIXANT. 


[book  I. 


unheard  by  him,  rose  the  tearful  gaze  of  many  eyes, 
the  forlorn  prayer  of  many  hearts  —  hearts  that  had 
pro  ved  the  falsity  of  human  faith,  eyes  that  were  no 
longer  strained  in  the  vain  expectation  of  human 


succor, 


But  the  aspect  of  the  place  awakened  no  sentiment 
of  pity  in  Philip's  breast.  In  his  eyes  it  was  a  nest 
of  rebels  and  fanatics,  who  had  braved  his  power,  out- 
raged his  person,  and  slighted  his  proffered  grace. 
His  dignity,  his  authority,  his  honor  were  to  be  as- 
serted and  vindicated.  His  career  had  opened  in 
vengeance ;  in  vengeance  it  was  to  close. 

In  fact,  those  among  the  people  of  Dinant  —  and 
doubtless  they  were  the  larger  number  of  its  ordinary 
residents  -  -  who  were  fully  awake  to  their  peril,  and 
who  would  have  chosen  to  throw  themselves  upon  the 
mercy  of  so  powerful  an  enepiy  rather  than  provoke 
him  still  further  by  a  useless  resistance,  no  longer 
dared  to  make  an  open  avowal  of  their  wishes.  The 
outlaws,  themselves  an  army,  well  provided  with 
weapons,  accustomed  to  live  by  violence,  and  regu- 
larly organized  in  bands  under  different  leaders,  had 
taken  complete  possession  of  the  town,  and,  support- 
ed by  the  lower  orders  of  the  populace,  established 
a  government  of  terror  like  that  which  again  reigned 
in  the  capitn].  By  vain-confident  boasts,  by  acts  of 
desperate  atrocity,  they  silenced  the  munnurs  of  dis- 
sent within  the  walls,  and  imagined  that  by  the  same 
means  they  could  intimidate  the  enemy  without- 
Several  of  the  chief  citizens,  who  had  counselled  sub- 
mission to  the  demands  of  the  enemy,  were  pubUcly 


CHAP.  IX.] 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


409 


executed.  Priests,  for  refusing  to  say  mass,  were 
thrown  into  the  river.  Bouvignes,  alarmed  at  the 
prospect  of  being  occupied  by  the  besieging  army, 
living  at  free  quarters  among  the  inhabitants,  is  said 
to  have  proffered  its  mediation.  But  its  messenger 
was  instantly  put  to  death ;  and  a  child,  whose  tender 
years  and  innocent  looks  were  thought  to  ensure  iiim 
against  harm,  being  made  the  bearer  of  a  second 
letter  of  the  like  purport,  was,  'f  the  frightful  tale  be 
true,  torn  limb  from  limb  by  the  frenzied  rabble.* 

Had  the  real  courage  of  these  desperadoes  been  in 
any  degree  proportioned  to  their  violence  and  cru- 
elty, it  seems  as  if  Dinant  should  at  least  have  been 
capable  of  a  stout  and  protracted  defence.  The  art 
of  siege  was  still  in  its  infancy.  It  was  not  uncom- 
mon even  for  a  small  town  to  baffle  all  the  efforts  of 
a  numerous  and  well-appointed  army;  and  more  than 
one  instance  of  the  kind  will  occur  in  the  course  of 
our  narrative.  Dinant  was  regarded  as  a  place  of 
extraordinary  strength.^  According  to  the  tradition, 
it  had  been  many  times  assaulted,  but  was  still  a 
virgin  fortress.  On  one  side  ran  a  deep  and  rapid 
river ;  on  the  other  it  was  protected  by  a  wall  nine 
feet  thick,  flanked  by  eighty  towers.  But  its  self- 
constituted  garrison  trusted  much  less  to  their  own 
exertions,  or  even  to  the  strength  of  the  defences, 
than  to  the  assistance  which  had  been  promised  from 


*  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  273. 

^  "  Oppiclum  munitissimum,  ac- 
cessu  difficile,  aapectu  inexpugnabile; 
vastissimis  moenibus  in  gjTo  circum- 
VOL.  I.  53 


datum,  et  hinc  Moaa  fluvio,  illino 
vero  excelsis  rupibus  forti  obsidione 
vallatum."  Heoricus  de  Merica,  De 
Kam,  p.  169. 


• 

V    1 

'  ' ' 

410 

FATE  OF  DINANT. 

[book  I. 

abroad, 
chose  to 

or  which 
expect. 

in  default  of  promises,  they  still 
The  king  of  France  would  himself 

h: 


■Jf 


I'. 


march  to  their  relief  Liege  was  about  to  send  out 
an  army  of  forty  thousand  men  to  raise  the  siege. 
Vaunts  and  illusions  like  these  seem  to  have  taken 
the  place  of  any  serious  pieparations  for  resistance. 

On  the  morning  of  the  17th  the  advanced  guard 
of  the  Burgundians  made  its  appearance  before  Di- 
nant,  and,  after  some  skirmishing,  drove  in  a  party 
that  had  sallied  out  to  contest  the  ground.  The  main 
body  followed  as  rapidly  as  the  transport  of  the  artil- 
lery, which  was  unusually  strong,  would  allow.  The 
long  train  of  wagons,  extending  over  several  leagues 
of  road,  was  escorted  by  the  heavy-armed  cavalry 
in  two  wings,  while  the  archers,  as  usual,  were  in 
the  van.  The  whole  force  amounted  in  number 
to  thirty  thousand  men.  VaTious  banners  were  dis- 
played amongst  the  feudal  bands  that  constituted 
this  formidable  host;  but  conspicuous  among  them 
all  was  the  sable  standard  of  the  count  of  Charolais 
with  its  gold-embroidered  effigy  of  Saint  George  in 
the  act  of  transfixing  the  dragon." 

The  investment,  so  far  as  was  considered  neces- 
sary, was  completed  without  delay.  The  faubourgs, 
including  several  strong  outworks,  were  stormed, 
with  little  loss  on  the  part  of  the  assailants.''  The 
greater  portion  of  the  army  was  kept  in  reserve,  to 
give  battle  to  the  people  of  Li^ge,  who,  according 


'  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  pp.  268-270.    aux  magiatrats  de  Malines,  Gachard, 
—  HajTiin,  torn.  i.  p.  68.  Doc.  Ined.,  torn.  ii.  p.  374.  —  Hay- 

^  Lettre  du  comte  de  Charolais    nin,  torn.  i.  p.  69. 


CHAP.  IX.] 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


411 


to  rumor,  were  already  on  the  march ;  but  the  ce- 
lerity with  which  the  siege  was  opened  showed  the 
determination  of  the  Burgundian  prince  to  lose  no 
chance  of  bringing  it  to  a  conclusion  before  any 
succor  could  arrive.  As  the  modern  method  of  ap- 
proaching fortified  places  by  means  of  trenched  zig- 
zags and  parallels  had  not  come  into  use,  it  was 
customary  for  the  assailants  to  take  advantage  of  the 
obscurity  of  night  in  establishing  tlieir  batteries.  But, 
on  the  present  occasion,  this  precaution  was  disre- 
garded by  the  officer  in  command  of  the  artillery  — 
Peter  von  Hagenbach,  an  Alsatian  noble  and  a  sol- 
dier of  fortune,  whose  vigor  and  resolution  strongly 
recommended  him  to  the  favor  of  a  commander 
personally  so  distinguished  for  these  qualiti'  s,  and 
obtained  for  him  ultimately  a  placo  in  (.'iiarles's 
confidence  productive  of  fatal  consequences  to  both. 
Ordering  the  field-pieces  to  be  advanced  as  close  as 
possible  to  the  walls,  Hagenbach,  under  cover  of 
their  fire,  brought  up  the  "  bombards,"  as  the  siege 
ordnance  were  called,  leading  tlic  foremost  horse  with 
his  own  hand,  and  succeeded  in  getting  them  into 
position  in  broad  daylight.^ 

This  operation  having  been  completed,  the  usual 
summons  was  delivered  on  the  same  after-  [Tuesday, 
noon,    it  was  received  by  the  besieged,  or    ^^s-  ^^0 


'"II  avoit  nfiiste  sa  menue  artil-  n'osoyent  mettre  la  teste  hors  des 

lerie,  dont  il  avoit  grand  plantd,  de-  portes  ne  des  murailles,  et  ainsy  ap- 

vant  les  portes  et  la  muraille  de  Di-  procha  ses  bombardes  et  mena  le 

nand,  et  quand  il  approcha  a  tout  premier  cheval  par  la  biide."    La- 

ses  bombardes,  le  trait  h.  pouldre  marche,  torn.  ii.  p.  257. 
voloit  si  dru,  que  ceux  de  la  ville 


u 


412 


TATE  OF  DINANT. 


[nooK  1. 


by  that  portion  ot  them  to  whose  insane  direction 
the  miserable  town  was  now  abandoned,  with  shouts 
of  derision.  Crowchng  the  walls,  they  hurled  defiance 
and  every  species  of  insult  at  such  parties  of  the 
enemy  as  were  stationed  near  the  gates.  "  Is  your 
old  puppet  of  a  duke,"  they  cried,  "  weary  of  his  life, 
that  you  have  brought  him  here  to  die  a  villain's 
death  ?  Your  Count  Cltarhtel  is  but  a  green  fledgling. 
Bid  him  go  and  fight  with  the  king  of  France  at 
Montlh6ry.  If  he  wait  here  till  the  noble  Louis 
comes,  or  the  people  of  Liege,  he  will  be  forced  to 
decamp  right  villanously." "  , 

These  taunts  and  empty  boasts  were  answered  by 
the  roar  of  the  artillery,  which  now  opened  from  dif- 
ferent quarters,  from  the  heights  that  overlooked  the 
town  and  from  convenient  positions  in  the  faubourgs. 
Never  had  so  heavy  and  so  effective  a  cannonade  been 
directed  against  a  fortified  place.  Except  for  a  brief 
interval  during  the  thickest  darkness  of  the  night, 
the  fire  was  kept  up  without  intermission.  It  seemed 
to  the  inhabitants  of  Dinant  that  their  town  had  be- 
come a  very  hell.^"  The  houses  were  riddled,  the 
churches  dismantled  of  their  towers;  more  than  seven 
hundred  persons  were  reported  to  have  been  killed ; 
and,  by  the  end  of  the  week,  a  breach  sixty  feet  long 
had  been  opened  in  the  wall. 

On  the  part  of  the  defenders  the  struggle  seems 


*  Duclereq,   torn.  iv.   p.   272.  —        •"  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.   p.  274,  — 

"  Plusieurs  aultres  villaines  parolles,  Ancien  Chronique,  Lenglet,  toiu.  ii. 

qui  trop  longues  seroient  a  racomp-  p.  187. 
ter,  disoient  de  jour  en  jour."   . 


CBAF.  IX.] 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


413 


to  have  been  confined  to  a  feeble  fire  from  the  walls 
and  a  few  ineffectual  sortien."  Stunned  by  the  Hud- 
denncHS  and  overwhelnung  force  of  the  attack,  the 
self-constituted  garrison  abandoned  all  notion  of  re- 
sistance, and  now  thought  only  of  making  good  their 
own  retreat.  The  fate  of  Dinant  mattered  little  to 
them  —  httle  when  they  swarmed  upon  it,  ensuring 
and  accelerating  its  ruin ;  little  when  they  deserted 
it  in  the  hour  of  its  greatest  need,  and,  like  scared 
birds  of  prey,  winged  their  flight  towards  the  distant 
forest.'*  For  these  vagrants,  encumbered  only  with 
their  arms  and  banners,  escape  was  easy,  the  passage 
of  the  river  above  the  town  being  left  unguarded  by 
the  enemv.     But  those  who  had  their  famihes  and 

t/ 

property  to  piotect  must  stay  and  abide  the  issue, 
ready  to  grasp  at  any  chance  of  saving  the  homes 
which  even  when  despoiled  would  still  be  dear  to 
them,  and  without  which  even  life  and  liberty  would 
cease  to  be  precious. 

Relieved  of  the  presence  of  their  pretended  allies, 
the  citizens  had  now  the  power  and  the  responsibility 


"  "  Les  Dinantois  firent  deux  ou 
trois  petites  soillies  au  plain  de  la 
montaigne  sans  aucun  eft'et."  Ilay- 
nin,  torn.  i.  p.  69.  —  And  see  Com- 
minea,  torn.  i.  p.  116. 

M.  Borgnct,  indeed,  after  noticing 
the  vigor  of  the  besiegers,  says,  "  La 
di'fcnst)  n'etait  pas  moins  vivc.  lies 
que  les  assiegcs  trouvaient  le  mo- 
ment de  se  faire  entendre  des  Bour- 
giiiguons,  ils  leur  criaient  des  in- 
jures." The  latter  statement  will 
hardly  be  accepted  as  confirmation 


cf  the  former — in  support  of  which, 
however,  nothing  further  is  adduced, 
or  can  be  adduced  from  any  of  the 
authorities. 

"  "  Ad  latrocinia  fortes,  ad  proelia 
pavidi,"  is  the  descriptian  given  of 
them  by  Foullon,  one  of  the  native 
historians  of  Liege ;  and  M.  Borgnet, 
who  cites  the  remark,  should  have 
found  some  better  ground  for  dis- 
puting its  applicability  than  their 
conduct  in  the  defence  of  Dinant. 


414 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


[book  I. 


i   ■ 


III 


11 


of  ileeitling  upon  their  own  course  of  action.  Already, 
on  the  22(1,  they  had  offered  to  capitulate,  and  re- 
quested that  negotiations  might  be  opened.  But 
this  proposal  was  answered  by  a  brief  and  stern  re- 
fusal; they  must  surrender  at  discretion  or  endure 
the  consequences.  On  Saturday  the  fire  from  the 
batteries  was  suspended ;  and  the  count  of  Charolais 
decided  to  make  the  assault  on  Sunday.  Philip,  how- 
ever, doubting  whether  the  breach  were  yet  practica- 
ble, and  anxious  that  no  unnecessary  risk  should  be 
encountered,  desired  that  it  might  be  deferred  to  the 
following  day.  On  Monday,  therefore,  the  firing  was 
resumed  and  continued  for  several  hours.  Then  it 
again  ceased.  All  was  still.  Instead  of  the  usual 
summons  by  the  trumpet-call,  the  orders  of  the  gen- 
eral were  passed  by  word  of  mouth  from  rank  to 
rank.  The  soldiers,  each  provided  with  a  faggot  to 
throw  into  the  ditch,  made  their  preparations  for  the 
attack.^' 

In  the  mean  time  the  magistrates  had  convened 
all  the  inhabitants,  and  called  for  a  decision  on  the 
only  alternative  presented  for  their  choice.  There 
seemed  little  room  for  discussion.  If  the  place  were 
stormed,  the  horrible  result  was  certain.  Hope  whis- 
pered that,  even  at  this  hour,  submission  would  avail 
to  obtain  some  mitigation  of  their  doom.  "The  duke," 
it  was  said, "  has  ever  been  reputed  a  merciful  prince ; 
an  appeal  to  his  compassion  will  not  be  made  in  vain." 
A  solitary  voice  opposed  this  delusive  expectation. 
John  de  Gerin,  the  dean  of  the  great  guild,  and  a 

"  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  pp.  275;  276.  —  Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  70. 


i"iiii<'] 


CHAF.  IX  .J 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


415 


former  burgomaster  of  the  town,  taking  in  his  hantl 
the  civic  standard,  cried  out,  "I  will  trust  to  no  man's 
mercy.  I  am  ready  to  take  this  strjidard  to  the 
breach,  and  there  to  live  or  die  with  you ;  but,  if  you 
determine  to  surrender,  I  will  quit  the  town  before 
the  enemy  enters  it."  " 

Applause  followed,  such  a»  men  readily  yield  to  an 
heroic  sentiment  that  has  no  influence  upon  their 
own  course  of  action.  Nor,  in  truth,  can  we  greatly 
wonder  that  the  citizens  of  Dinant  should  have  failed 
to  exhibit  that  instinctive  spirit  of  valor  and  resolve 
which  the  present  occasion  ought  to  have  called  forth 

—  that  spirit  which  has  so  often  enabled  a  despe- 
rate peopl'  to  maintain  a  post  legarded  as  untenable 
against  a  Ibe  supposed  to  be  irresistible.  Their  spirit 
had  been  broken,  and  they  had  been  utterly  disor- 
ganized, in  the  crisis  through  which  they  had  passed 

—  in  the  long  and  vain  endeavor  to  escape  from  a 
hibyrinth  into  which  they  had  been  dragged  against 
their  will,  and  to  hinder  or  suppress  the  violence 
which  they  were  now  condemned  to  expiate. 

In  season  to  avert  the  meditated  assault  the  keys 
of  the  town  were  carried  to  the  count  of  Charolais. 
As  a  matter  of  form  he  declined  to  receive  them 
before  communicating  wuth  his  father  and  obtaining 
his  consent.  Late  in  the  evening  the  Bastard  of 
Burgundy  was  directed  to  take  possession  of  the 
conquered  place  with  the  troops  under  his  command, 
and  to  garrison  the  citadel.  Orders  were  issued  that 
no  violence  should  be  offered  to  the  persons  or  the 


"  Adrianus  de  Veteri-Bosco,  Ampliss.  CoL,  torn.  iv.  p.  1294. 


■I . 


1*1 


\  1 


416 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


[book  I. 


Mi! 


liir 


U-    '-■ 


i| 


property  of  the  inhabitants,  and  that  they  should 
only  be  required  to  furnish  the  necessary  provisions 
for  the  men.  During  the  first  few  hours  these  in- 
junctions were  obeyed.  But  at  midnight  the  sol- 
diers, inflamed  probably  by  wine  as  well  as  by  the 
prospect  of  a  richer  harvest  than  they  might  expect 
to  reap  whpn  their  comrades  had  been  admitted  to 
share  it  with  them,  could  no  longer  be  restrained  by 
the  bonds  of  discipline.  The  work  of  rapine  was 
commenced,  and  continued  throughout  the  night.'^ 

It  was  stopped,  however,  on  Tuesday,  at  noon, 
when  the  count  of  Charolais  made  his  entrance,  pre- 
ceded by  drums  and  trumpets,  by  long  files  of  archers 
in  brilliant  uniforms,  by  heralds  dressed  in  the  quaint 
garb  that  indicated  their  office,  and  by  mounted 
troopers  carrying  the  banners  on  which  were  emblaz- 
oned the  insignia  of  the  different  states  subject  to 
the  house  of  Burgundy.  Behind  came  the  pages  of 
the  household,  the  principal  nobles,  and  the  deep 
squadrons  of  the  men-at-arms,  that  constituted  the 
bulk  and  principal  strength  of  the  army.^°     The  in- 


"  "  Ceux  qui  y  entrarent  y  furent 
gratieux  et  paisibles  jusques  h  mi- 
nuict,  mais  apres  commencerent  h. 
battre  et  rompre  les  buys,  coffres, 
escrins,  et  piller  tout."  Haynin, 
torn.  i.  p.  70. 

'*  Idem,  p.  71.  —  Adrianus  de  Ve- 
teri-Bosco,  Ampliss.  Col.,  torn.  iv. 
p.  1295.  —  The  "mimi"  spoken  of 
by  Adrianus  as  taking  part  in  the 
procession  are  supposed  by  Michelet 
to  have  been  the  court  jesters  or  pro- 
fessional buffoons —  "  fols  ct  farceurs 


d'offlce,  qui  jouaient  leur  role  aux 
actes  les  plus  graves,  traitds,  prises 
de  possession."  This  notion  is  rid- 
iculed by  Borgnet,  who  thinks  it 
more  probable  that  an  allusion  was 
intended  —  "  dans  une  intention 
^videment  desobligeante  "  —  to  the 
coats  of  arms  worn  by  the  heralds ! 
Allegorical  exhibitions  and  perform- 
ances —  serious,  however,  rather 
than  comic  —  were  certainly  not  un- 
usual in  ovations  and  other  public 
ceremonies. 


[book  I. 

should 
visions 
ese  in- 
;he  sol- 
by  the 
expect 
itted  to 
ined  by 
ine  was 
ight.^^ 
it  noon, 
Qce,  pre- 
f  archers 
le  quaint 
mounted 
3  emblaz- 
ibject  to 
pages  of 
:he  deep 
^uted  the 
The  in- 


CH\P.  IX.] 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


417 


habitants,  who  gazed  with  anxiety  and  awe  on  this 
imposing  display  of  military  force,  —  far  superior  to 
what  their  information  had  prepared  them  to  expect, 
— saw  nothing  in  the  spectacle,  or  in  the  stern  glance 
and  haughty  bearing  of  the  conquerors,  to  encourage 
the  faint  hopes  that  still  glimmered  in  their  hearts.''' 
It  is  one  of  the  prerogatives  of  power,  when  legiti- 
mate in  form,  however  arbitrary  in  its  character,  that 
it  is  able  to  clothe  revenge  in  the  solemn  garb  of  jus- 
tice. That  Dinant  should  have  surrendered  at  discre- 
tion, instead  of  being  carried  by  assault,  seemed  to 
afford  the  Burgundian  princes  an  opportunity  of  ac- 
complishing their  object  in  so  formal  and  deliberate  a 
manner  as  might  render  the  example  more  impres- 
sive, and  give  to  the  world  a  convincing  proof  of  their 
greatness  and  authority.  At  a  council  of  war  held  on 
the  morning  of  the  27th  (Wednesday)  the  programme 
of  the  intended  proceedings  was  discussed  and  ar- 
ranged. But  the  impatience  of  the  troops  would  not 
allow  of  its  being  carried  out  in  all  its  particulars  in 
the  order  and  with  the  formalities  intended.  On  the 
same  day,  after  dinner,  every  man,  on  rising  from 
table,  laid  hands  on  the  host  with  whom  he  was  bil- 
leted, and  threatened  him  with  instant  death  unless 
he  revealed  the  place  where  his  most  valuable  pos- 
sessions were  concealed.'^  From  that  hour  the  town 
presented  the  same  aspect  as  if  it  had  been  taken  by 


17    II 


Ceux  de  la  ville  voyantz  ceste  Bourgogne,  laquelle  ils  avoient  jus- 

enhce  furent  fort  esbahys,  et  pen-  ques  lors  vilipendd."    Hayniii,  torn. 

soient  qu'il  n'y  avoit  plus  de  gens  au  i.  p.  71. 

monde,  ct  commenccrent  aupremes  '*  Adrianus  de  Veteri-Bosco,  Am- 

^  cognoistre  la  puissance  du  due  de  pliss.  Col.,  torn.  iv.  p.  1295. 
VOL.  I.                53 


M 


i 


418 


FATE  OF  DECANT. 


[book  I. 


storm.  During  three  clays  the  sack  was  carried  on 
with  a  systematic  thoroughness  that  might  have  done 
credit  to  the  icorcheurs  of  an  earher  period.  Every 
house,  every  apartment,  in  regular  turn,  was  visited 
and  ransacked.  Even  the  roofs  were  invaded,  and 
stripped  of  the  lead  then  commonly  used  as  a  cov- 
ering for  the  better  class  of  buildings.  The  streets 
were  filled  with  horses  and  with  vehicles  of  every 
description  engaged  in  carrying  away  the  booty  to 
places  of  security  beyond  the  walls.  The  river  was 
covered  with  boats  and  small  vessels  employed  in  a 
similar  manner.^"  Often  what  had  been  taken  from 
the  enemy  became  an  object  of  contention  with  the 
captors.  Some  were  slain  in  defending  their  prizes, 
others  in  attempting  to  despoil  their  more  fortunate 
comrades.  Several  of  the  nobles,  gifted,  it  would  seem, 
with  a  peculiar  instinct  for  operations  of  this  kind, 
instead  of  joining  in  the  general  rapine,  stationed 
themselves,  with  their  retainers,  near  the  breach, 
and,  whenever  a  party  inferior  in  strength  sought 
egress  with  their  plunder,  ravished  it  from  them  and 
drove  them  empty-handed  from  the  spot.*^" 

Amidst  these  scenes  of  tumult  and  disorder,  the 
Burgundian  commander  still  retained,  to  a  remarka- 
ble extent,  that  control  over  his  men  which  had  been 


"  "  Le  mardy,  le  mercredy  et  le 
jeudy  on  ne  feit  que  butiner,  et  es- 
toit  toute  la  riviere  de  Meuse  pleine 
de  bastcaux  pleiiis  de  biens  que  on 
vuidoit  de  la  ville,  et  sy  ne  vcit  on 
touts  les  jours  que  chars,  charcttes, 
chevaulx,  tonneaulx,  brouettes,  cliar- 
gies  dc  biens  qu'on  emportoit  hers 


de  la  yWh,  et  hommes  a  picds  et  a 
cheval  chargies  de  biens,  car  il  y  avoit 
tant  de  biens,  et  se  y  avoit  tant  de 
vivres  que  merveilles,  et  disoit  on 
qu'ils  estoient  garnis  de  vivres  pour 
trois  ans."  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  27. 
'"  Idem,  loc.  cit. 


CHAP.  IX.] 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


419 


acquired  by  the  exercise  of  a  rigorous  and  invariable 
discipline.  He  issued  a  proclamation  that  any  out- 
rages to  women  —  a  species  of  crime  which  he  seems 
ever  to  have  held  in  peculiar  abhorrence  — would  be 
punished  with  death,  whatever  might  be  the  rank  of 
the  offenders.  To  enforce  obedience  in  this  particu- 
lar, he  stationed  sentinels  at  every  door ;  and,  being 
informed  that  three  archers  of  his  own  guard  were 
dragging  away  the  wife  of  a  citizen  towards  the  cliffs, 
he  caused  them  to  be  arrested,  led  thrice  through 
the  principal  streets,  and  then  gibbeted  in  a  con- 
spicuous situation.''^         ' 

But,  while  he  showed  himself  thus  solicitous  and 
vigilant  in  preserving  the  women  of  Dinant  from  dis- 
■  honor,  Charles  was  exacting  vengeance  for  the  infamies 
cast  upon  his  own  name  and  his  mother's  reputation, 
in  a  spirit  of  remorseless  cruelty  characteristic  indeed 
of  the  age,  but  preeminently  characteristic  of  himself 
It  is  not  at  all  certain  —  it  is  even  highly  improbable 

—  that,  among  the  persons  who  suffered,  any  consid- 
erable number  had  joined  in  the  perpetration  of  the 
excesses  that  furnished  the  apology — such  as  it  was 

—  for  these  terrible  reprisals.  Those  who  were  con- 
scious of  having  merited  or  provoked  castigation  had 
doubtless  been  the  first  to  avail  themselves  of  the 
opportunity  for  escape.^  But,  besides  some  of  the 
women  of  the  place  who  were  compelled  to  give  evi- 

"  Lamarche,  torn.  li.  p.  2.j8.  —  ou  non  nobles,  qu'il  les  feroit  mou- 

Basin,  torn.  ii.  p.  171.  —  Duclercq,  rir." 

torn.  iv.  p.  278.  — "  Car  le  comte        *'    "  Luebant    innoxii,    oljnoxii 

aussi  avoit  jure,  que  touts  ceulx  qui  evadebant."    Henricus  de  Zderica, 

violeroient  femmes,  fuissent  nobles  De  Ram,  p.  159. 


420 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


[book  I. 


I;"  t  i; 


11  i;i 


dence,  the  people  of  Bouvignes  were  called  to  testify 
against  their  hereditary  foes,  and  did  not  apparently 
show  themselves  too  nice  in  the  detection  and  identi- 
fication of  the  guilty.  How  many  victims  composed 
the  holocaust  offered  to  the  offended  honor  of  the 
house  of  Burgundy  cannot  be  stated  with  precision. 
But  we  have  the  assertion  of  an  impartial  eye-witness 
— whose  recollection  alone  can  have  been  at  fault,  if 
he  has  fallen  into  an  exaggeration  —  that  eight  hun- 
dred men  were  bound  hand  and  foot,  tied  together 
in  pairs,  and  thrown  into  the  Mouse.*'  This  was  no 
uncommon  mode  of  punishment,  and  may  have  been 
selected  in  this  instance,  and  executed  on  this  ex- 
traordinary scale,  in  order  that  the  duke,  who  had 
been  dissuaded  from  making  his  personal  appearance 
on  a  scene  where  his  presence  would  have  been  con- 
strued as  a  token  of  intendied  grace,**  might  not  want 
the  gratification  of  beholding  a  tragedy  of  which  he 
was  regarded  as  the  author.  Besides  these  unfortu- 
nates, some  were  hanged  by  the  orders  of  the  general, 
and  others  butchered  in  wanton  fury  by  the  soldiery.'^' 
Yet  the  temper  of  the  commander,  though  stem  and 
unpitying,  did  not  lead  him  to  sanction  indiscrimi- 
nate massacre ;  and,  as  no  resistance  seems  to  have 
been  attempted  by  the  inhabitants,  the  slaughter  was 


"  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  117. — 
He  adds  that  it  was  done  "k  la 
grande  requeste  de  ceulx  dudict  Bou- 
vynes  "  —  an  expression  not  perhaps 
to  be  taken  literally,  but  calculated 
to  strengthen  the  impression  left  by 
the  statements  of  other  wTiters  in 
regard  to  the  eagerness  with  wliich 


these  personal  enemies  of  Dinant 
pandered  to  the  revengeful  appetite 
of  its  conquerors. 

**  "  D  lui  fust  conseillie  de  non  y 
entrer  puisque  sa  vollonte  estoit  de  la 
destruire."  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  277. 

°*  Henricus  de  Merica,  De  Ram, 
p.  159. 


CHAr.  IX.] 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


421 


probably  net  so  great  as  often  a^jcompanied  the  sack 
of  a  captured  city.*" 

At  every  step  in  these  transactions,  indeed,  the 
count  of  Charolais  showed  an  inclination  to  draw  the 
line  between  the  blind  fury  common  on  such  occasions 
and  -.vhat  he  himself  considered  as  strict  retribution. 
By  the  usages  of  war  the  inhabitants  of  Dinant  were 
ail  captiv  J  j.  Their  persons,  as  well  as  their  property, 
were  placed  at  the  absolute  disposal  of  the  victors.'' 


•*  M.  Borgnet  rejects  as  improba- 
ble tlie  statement  of  Commines,  that 
ftm  jinrsons  were  put  to  death. 
Commines,  he  remarks,  "  wrote  with 
the  avowed  intention  of  exalting 
Louis  XI.  at  the  expense  of  his  im- 
petuous rival,"  and  cannot  therefore 
be  considered  as  a  trustworthy  guide ; 
and  he  also  endeavors  to  show  that 
the  statement  in  question  is  not  mere- 
ly unsupported  by,  but  at  variance 
with,  the  accounts  given  by  other 
\\Titer8.  He  adduces,  in  proof  of 
this,  an  expression  employed  by 
Haynin,  who,  after  telling  that  a  few 
iiulividuals, "  chiefs  of  the  rebellion," 
were  hanged,  adds,  "  Plusieurs  aul- 
tres  cc  nplices  furent  noyez  en  Mose, 
les  mains  et  les  pieds  liez "  —  a 
phrase  considered  by  M.  Borgnet  as 
"  far  from  indicating  so  high  a  figure 
as  that  of  Commines."  We  venture, 
however,  to  dissent  from  the  inter- 
pretation here  given  of  the  word 
"  plusieurs,"  which,  in  the  chronicles 
of  the  fifteenth  century,  will  always 
be  found  to  retain  its  primitive  force, 
and  should  therefore  be  translated 
"many,"  (plures,)  not  "several." 
A  single  instance,  from  Haynin  him- 
self, may  be  cited  for  its  remarkable 


appropi-iateness.  Relating  a  massa- 
cre on  an  occasion  veiy  similar  to 
the  present,  he  says,  "  On  y  tua 
plusieurs  personnes  que  hommes  que 
femmes,  jeusnes  et  vieulx,  et  les  ay 
ouy  nombrer  jusques  k  plus  de 
mille."  (Haynin,  tom.  i.  p.  142.) 
Here  we  find  exactly  the  same  ex- 
pression employed  by  the  same 
writer  to  indicate  a  total  much  f^reat- 
er  than  that  of  Commines.  Such 
being  the  case,  we  are  ready  to  con- 
cur with  the  remark  of  M.  Borgnet, 
that  "  the  account  given  by  Duclercq 
does  not  differ  from  that  of  Haynin." 
It  is  contained  in  these  words :  "  Ces 
jours  durant  on  prist  plusieurs  fem- 
mes pour  s(,'avoir  qui  cstoient  les 
mauvais,  et  ceulx  qui  avoieiit  dit  les 
blasphemes  du  due  et  son  fils,  Ics- 
quelles  en  accuserent  plusieurs,  sy 
feirent  cculx  de  Bonnynes,  en  accu- 
serent aulcuns,  lesquels  feurent  prins 
et  jettes  deux  loyes  ensemble  en  la 
riviere  et  noyes ;  et  sy  feit  le  comte 
pendre  le  bombardier  de  Dynant  sur 
la  montagne  desseure  I'eglise.  Touts 
aitssy  que  on  polvoit  s^avoir  qii'ils 
acoient  este  cause  de  la  guerrefeurent 
jettes  en  la  riviere." 
*'   Of  the  coolness  with  which 


422 


FATE  OF  DIXANT. 


[book  I. 


Those  whose  lives  were  spared  were  to  be  regarded 
as  a  legitimate  portion  of  the  spoils.  For  every  man 
a  ransom  would  be  fixed,  the  price  which  he  must  pay 
for  the  recovery  of  his  freedom.  If  unable  to  dis- 
charge it  or  to  furnish  security  for  its  payment,  he 
might,  if  such  were  the  pleasure  of  his  captr»r,  be 
sold  into  slavery.  But  from  these  penalties  the 
women  and  children,  and  members  of  the  ecclesiasti- 
cal profession,  were  exempted.  They  were  ordered 
to  quit  the  town  without  delay.  They  were  forbid- 
den to  take  with  them  any  effects  which  they  might 
perchance  have  rescued  from  the  general  pillage;'^ 
but  an  escort  was  provided  to  conduct  them  on  the 
road  to  Liege.  Thither  they  would  carry  the  report 
of  what  had  befallen  Dinant  —  admo  litory  of  what 
Liege  might  expect  unless  it  hastened  to  comply  with 
the  requisitions  of  its  enemy. 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  Thursday  the  28th  that 
proclamation  was  made  to  this  effect,  and  the  mourn- 
ful exodus  took  place  on  the  same  afternoon.  The 
trumpets  sounded  the  fatal  signal;  the  gates  were 


these  unfortunate  captives — neither 
pagans  nor  negroes  —  were  treated 
and  spoken  of  as  mere  chattels, 
things  that  might  be  sold,  given 
away,  stolen  and  reclaimed,  the  fol- 
lowing passage  may  serve  as  an  ex- 
ample. "  Mondict  sieur  de  Charro- 
lois  avoit  donne  h  monsieur  de  Fi- 
ennes  Henri  de  Huy,  [one  of  the 
richest  citizens  of  Dinant,]  son  hoste, 
son  fils  ct  I'hostel  avec  les  bieus  y 
cstants,  mais  ledict  Henry  de  Huy 
et  son  fils  luy  furent  destournez  par 
autres,  et  mis  hors  la  voye  ;  ne  S9ay 


s'il  les  r'dut."  Ha;-nin,  i  im.  i.  p.  72. 
■"*  The  count  of  Charolais  made 
an  exception  in  favor  of  his  own 
hostess,  the  wife  of  a  very  wealthy 
citizen.  "  Donna  congd  k  son  hos- 
tesse  d'emporter  avec  elle  tout  ce 
qu'elle  puys  d'argent,  accoustrementz 
et  aultres  bagues  quelconques.  Sur 
quel  conge  elle  fist  oster  quelques 
pierres  du  pavd  de  I'escalier  de  sa 
maison  devant  Testable  des  chevaux, 
et  y  tira  hors  trois  ou  quatre  sachetz 
pleins  d'or,  et  les  porta  et  fit  porter 
avec  elle."    Hayn^n,  torn.  i.  p.  72. 


CUAP.  IX.] 


FATE  OF  DINAXT. 


423 


thrown  wide.  No  more  heart-rending  scene  of  human 
suffering  was  ever  witnessed ;  and  even  the  most  cold- 
blooded of  the  spectators  gazed  upon  the  spectacle 
with  pallid  countenances.  As  the  despairing,  helpless 
multitude  went  forth,  —  expelled  from  their  homes, 
cast  destitute  upon  the  world,  torn  from  their  friends, 
their  protectors,  their  beloved,  with  the  full  certainty 
that  they  were  never  to  meet  again,  with  as  complete 
uncertainty  of  what  was  to  befall  those  whom  the}' 
left  behind,  —  there  burst  from  them  "  two  or  three 
cries  "  so  piteous  and  terrible  that  all  who  heard  the 
dismal  sounds  were  thrilled  with  a  sudden  horror.^'' 

The  next  step  in  this  work  of  ruin  was  precipitated, 
whether  through  accident  or  by  some  wanton  act  of 
mischief  is  uncertain.  On  the  same  night  a  fire 
broke  out  in  the  lodgings  of  the  Sire  de  Ravenstein. 
When  first  discovered,  it  might  without  much  diffi- 
culty have  been  extinguished.  But  the  soldiers, 
roused  from  their  drunken  slumbers,  gazed  at  it  with 
stupid  curiosity,  doubtful  whether  to  attribute  it  to 
the  orders  of  their  commander  or  to  a  special  mani- 
fest, iticn  of  that  divine  wrath  which  they  supposed 
to  have  been  long  brooding  over  the  guilty  town. 
The  doom  of  Dinant  had  indeed  been  pronounced, 
but  not  with  the  intention  to  carry  it  into  effect 
while  the  place  was  filled  with  troops,  the  fate  of 
the  prisoners  still  undecided,  the  booty  not  entireh' 


*'  "  Lesquels  femmes,  petita  en-  qui  le  ojTent  eurent  pitic  et  horreur." 

faiits  et  gens  d'eglise,  a  I'issir  hors  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  279.  —  And  see 

la  ville,  jetterent  deux  ou  trois  crys  Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  72. 
sy  terribles  ct  piteux,  que  touts  ceuLi 


424 


FATE  OF  DIXANT. 


[book  I. 


M  ' 


i^^  '. 


I*'] 


V      i: 


t'-i 

m 


Nccurcd,  and  the  images  and  sacred  relics,  which  it 
would  have  been  prodigal  as  well  as  impious  to  de- 
.stroy,  yet  unremoved  from  the  churches.  On  reach- 
ing the  spot  Charles  gave  directions  for  arresting  the 
progress  of  the  flames.  But  this  order  came  too  late. 
The  soldiers  worked  with  little  zeal,  or  confined  their 
efforts  to  the  preservation  of  the  spoils.  The  Hotel 
<le  Ville,  where  the  powder  had  been  stored,  blew  up, 
spreading  the  devastation  far  and  wide.  The  prin- 
cipal church,  that  of  Notre  Dame,  was  next  attacked. 
A  number  of  prisoners,  the  persons  of  chief  consider- 
ation in  the  town,  who  had  been  placed  for  safe  keep- 
ing in  the  massive  tower  of  the  edifice,  were  burned 
to  death ;  but  the  bones  of  Saint  Perpetc,  and  other 
relics,  esteemed  apparently  more  precious  than  the 
living  inmates,  were  rescued  through  the  personal 
exertions  of  the  general  and  at  the  innninent  risk 
of  his  life. 

In  a  few  hours  the  conflagration  had  become  gen- 
eral. There  was  no  longer  any  question  of  disputing 
its  march ;  the  only  thought  was  of  escaping  from 
this  place  of  doom.  The  furious  element  ^  arsued 
the  terror-stricken  fugitives  "as  if  with  talons,"  and 
many  who  had  staid  to  load  themselves  with  their 
ill-gotten  gain  sank  down  scorched  or  suffocated.^" 
Among  the  victims  were  a  party  of  the  townspeople, 
who,  when  the  place  was  first  occupied,  had  taken 

**  "  On  y  cryoit  le  meurdre,  que  sus  Christ,  car  le  feu  suivoit  les  gens 

ccstdit  la  plus  grande  cruautc  et  es-  aulx  talonts  de  toius  costis."    Du- 

hahisscmcnt  que  on  vcit  oncqiies  puis  clercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  281. 
la  vuiigcance  de  nostxe  Seigueur  Je- 


l-l' 

m 

1 

^ 

4'i'i! 

''•ffll 

1  - 

11 

1  1 
1  ^ 

m 

CHAP.  IX.] 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


425 


refuge  in  the  towers  of  the  fortifications,  and,  refusing 
every  summons  to  surrender,  had  determined,  but 
vainly  as  it  proved,  to  have  life  for  life  in  the  strug- 
gle they  anticipated. 

The  complete  destruction  of  the  place  was  now 
inevitable.  But  the  pride  of  the  conquerors  was 
galled  by  the  idea  that  what  they  had  prepared  as 
a  signal  mark  of  vengeance  should  wear  the  appear- 
ance of  an  accident  —  one  of  those  catastrophes  that 
so  often  occur  Avhen  plunder  and  riot  follow  in  the 
track  of  victory.  By  some  it  was  even  believed  that 
the  conflagration  was  the  work  of  the  inhabitants 
themselves,  resolved  to  rob  the  captors  of  their  prize 
and  compel  them  to  an  ignominious  retreat.  That 
his  original  purpose  might  be  made  manifest,  Charles 
now  gave  orders  for  accelerating  the  destruction  by 
setting  fire  to  every  quarter  of  the  town.  In  the 
execution  of  this  mandate  the  people  of  Bouvignes 
were  observed  to  be  especially  active  —  eager  volun- 
teers in  the  extirpation  of  a  community  which  had 
long  been  the  object  of  their  envious  hate.  The 
flames  thus  kindled  at  various  points  soon  spread  in 
broad  sheets  over  the  devoted  town ;  and,  by  the  end 
of  this  eventful  week,  nothing  remained  of  Dinant 
but  blackened  walls  and  heaps  of  smouldering  ruin." 

Even  yet  the  desired  consummation  was  far  from 
having  been  attained.  For  several  months  these 
ruins  continued  to  be  the  scene  of  explorations  car- 

="  Idem,  pp.  280-283.  —  Haj-nin,  1295.  — Henricus  de  Merica;  The- 

tom.  i.  p.  72.  —  Adriiinus  de  Veteri-  odoricus  Paulus,  De  Ram,  pp.  159, 

Bosco,  Ampliss.  Col.,  torn.  iv.   p.  194,206.  —  Basin,  torn.  ii.  p.  172. 
eoL.  I.              04 


1?'' 

i 

r 

i 

pm^ 

m 

426 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


[book  1. 


|l!ii# 


i   i 


t^m 


hl'i, 


f  I'Vi;!!!! 


xled  on  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  neighboring  region ; 
while  gangs  of  laborers,  summoned  from  Namur,  were 
employed  in  demolishing  the  walls  and  other  remains, 
and  in  removing  the  materials.  Officeris  were  com- 
missioned by  Philip  to  superintend  the  operation,  with 
autliority  to  tfike  possession  of  every  article  of  value 
that  might  be  found,  and  to  dispose  of  it  for  the  ben- 
efit of  the  ducal  treasury.*^  Inventories  were  kept, 
in  which  a  description  of  the  articles,  their  value,  and 
the  names  of  the  purchasers  were  duly  registered. 
These  accounts  are  still  in  existence ;  and  the  peru- 
sal of  them  seems  to  bring  with  a  peculiar  vividness 
before  the  mind  the  reality  of  those  events  of  which 
the  chroniclers  have  left  so  bare  and  meagre  a  narra- 
tion. Here,  in  a  list  which  occupies  some  dozen  pages, 
are  the  relics  of  Dinant,  of  its  industry  and  of  its 
wealth,  grown  and  multiplied  through  several  centu- 
ries, and  blasted  in  a  single  week.  Here  are  the 
memorials  of  ruined  households,  of  broken  hearts, 
of  perished  lives,  —  still  wet  with  tears,  stained  with 
gore,  defaced,  mutilated,  scorched, —  held  up  for  sale, 
and  yielding  so  many  livres,  so  many  sous,  so  many 
deniers,  to  the  exchequer  of  Monseigneur  the  duke 
of  Burgundy.  ^^Item,  a  little  chain  of  silver,  with  a 
little  bell  attached ;  item,  two  little  silver  cups,  weigh- 
ing together  one  mark;  item,  a  pair  of  bride's  gloves; 
Hem,  a  little  ivory  comb;  item,  on  ivory  tablet, broken ; 
item,  an  ivory  tablet,  partly  burnt ;  item,  an  agnus  en- 
chased with  silver ;  item,  a  necklace,  with  ten  little 
paternosters  of  amber."    The  greater  number  of  these 

'*  Gachard,  Doc.  Incd.,  torn.  ii.  p.  37u,  et  seq. 


v.,  t»v  I 


CVUP.  IX.] 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


427 


trinkets,  with  many  others  of  the  same  description, 
are  purchased  by  Jean  EsseUiire,  a  broker  from  Brus- 
sels, who  has  scented  in  this  downfall  and  extirpation 
of  a  whole  community  an  opportunity  for  replenish- 
ing at  a  cheap  rate  his  stock  of  curiosities.  Other 
purchasers  come  from  Bouvignes,  Namur,  Mezi^res, 
as  to  an  annual  fare  or  market,  make  their  bargains, 
and  provide  themselves  with  the  copper  kettles,  sauce- 
pans, and  candlesticks,  for  Avhich  Dinant  was  famous. 
Several  lots  consisting  mostly  of  "  hammers,  large  and 
small,"  and  other  mechanical  implements,  are  disposed 
of  to  two  or  three  persons  belonging  to  Dinant,  who 
had  searched  the  rubbish  for  their  own  former  prop- 
erty, and  are  permitted  to  redeem  it.  These  must 
have  saved  something  in  the  general  wreck ;  or  they 
were  perhaps  furnished  by  friends  in  other  places 
(one  of  them  is  mentioned  as  living  in  the  house  of 
Jean  Gillon  at  Namur)  with  the  means  of  discharging 
their  ransom  and  of  beginning  the  world  anew.^ 

Here,  too,  as  we  turn  the  leaf,  is  an  entry  which 
arrests  the  eye :  "Hem,  found  in  a  wall  at  the  said 
Dinant,  the  place  indicated  by  a  poor  woman,"  sun- 
dry coins  of  the  value  stated ;  "  of  which  there  were 
given  to  the  said  poor  woman,  by  way  of  alms,  (pour 
D('ei(,)  16  aidans ;  thus  leaving  to  the  profit  of  Mon- 
seigneur  4  livres,  2  sous,  8  deniers."     This  "poor 


"  Comte  rendu,  Gachard,  Doc. 
Incd.,  torn.  ii.  pp.  379-302.  —  The 
quantity  of  silver  plate  found  among 
the  ruins  is  a  strong  indication  of 
tlie  wealth  and  luxurious  habits  of 
the  citizens.    Many  of  the  articles 


■were  uninjured.  Adrianus  de  Vete- 
ri-Bosco,  who  visited  Dinant  a  few 
days  after  the  fire,  found  a  statue  of 
the  Virgin,  of  beautiful  workmanship, 
standing  entire  in  the  portal  of  the 
chuich.     Ampliss.  Col.,  p.  1296. 


423 


FATE  OP  DINANT. 


[UOOX   I. 


If  «       m 


ii    ' 


woman  "  was  one  of  many  who  wandered  back,  after 
the  army  had  departed,  and  were  seen,  day  after  day, 
sitting  on  the  piles  of  rubbish  or  searching  vainly  for 
BOiuc  vestige  of  their  former  habitations.^*  What  was 
their  ultimate  fate  ?  What  was  the  fate  of  all  that 
wretched  troop,  —  many  of  them  nuitured  in  ease, 
tenderly  cherished,  fondled,  and  loved,  —  all  reduced 
to  a  common  level  of  destitution  and  helplessness? 
A  chronicler  has  told  it  in  the  briefest  possible  sum- 
ma  ly  :  "  On  account  of  the  said  destruction  the  inhab- 
itants became  mendicants,  and  some  young  women 
and  girls  were  driven  to  gain  their  livelihood  by 
every  kind  of  vice  and  sin."  ^ 

The  task  of  demolishing  the  walls,  the  towers,  the 
bridges,  every  thing  not  destroyed  by  the  fire,  was 
intrusted  to  contractors;  and  the  amount  of  work 
executed  by  each,  with  the  sums  paid  for  it,  is  care- 
fully set  down  in  documents  still  extant.^"  It  was 
not  until  the  end  of  March,  14C7,  that  these  labors 
were  terminated.  Then,  at  length,  the  vow  of  ven- 
geance might  be  regarded  as  accomplished.  The  last 
heap  had  been  sifted  and  scattered,  the  last  mound 
levelled,  the  last  stone  removed.  The  site  of  so  many 
buildings,  the  spot  so  long  and  so  recently  a  scene  of 
activity  and  life,  was  bare  and  desolate,  distinguisha- 
ble only   by  its  bareness    and  desolation  from  the 


'*  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  p.  284.  peche  pour  avoir  leur  vie."      De 

'*  "  A  cause  d'icelle  destruction  Troyes,  Lenglet,  torn.  ii.  p.  59. 
devinrent  les  povres  habitans  d'icelle        '"  Comptes  de  la  demolition  de 

mandians,  et  aucuncs  jeunes  fenimcs  Dinant,  Gachard,  Doc.  Incd.,  torn, 

et  fUles  abandonnces  ^  tout  vice  et  ii.  p.  395,  et  seq. 


CHAP.  IT.] 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


420 


country  around.^''  Henceforth  it  should  be  said,  "Hero 
Dinant  was!"^ 

Of  tho  walls  and  tlio  houses  this  was  indeed  the 
end.  But  if  the  same  vigilant  eye  that  watched  over 
their  destruction,  if  the  same  patient  and  diligent 
research  which  we  have  seen  employed  in  the  exam- 
ination of  the  ruins,  had  followed  the  unfb-tunate 
exiles  through  their  subsequent  history,  tracing  their 
footsteps,  counting  up  their  struggles  and  their  mise- 
ries, how  large  a  portion  of  the  tragic  story  would 
still  remain  to  be  told  !  What  is  known  of  the  women 
—  of  that  band  to  wliont  a  cruel  mercy  had  been 
vouchsafed  by  the  conquerois  —  has  been  already 
mentioned.  In  regard  to  the  male  inhabitants,  a  few 
scanty  notices,  gleaned  from  various  sources,  furnish 
tlie  only  information  we  possess.  Carried  off  by  the 
soldiery  as  prisoners  of  war,  some  were  sold  by  their 
captors,'"'  others  were  enabled  to  furnish  security  for 
their  ransom  or  to  redeem  themselves  by  the  fruit  of 
their  labor.^"  Philip,  indeed,  regarded  this  appropria- 
tion of  the  living  booty  by  his  troops  as  an  infringe- 
ment of  his  own  rights.  As  Dinant  had  not  been 
taken  by  the  army,  but  had  submitted  to  his  mercy, 


"  "  Moenia  quoque  et  turres omnes 
ilcjcctiE  sunt,  et  vallum  complana- 
tum,  locusquc  sancitus  ne  posthac, 
in  memoriam  sceleratorum  civiura, 
quisnam  illic  icdiRcaro  aut  habitatio- 
nes  facere  attentaret."  Basin,  torn. 
ii.p.  173. 

^*  "  Cculx  qui  regardoient  la  place 
ou  la  ville  avoit  estd,  pooient  dire, 
'  cy  fust  Dyuant ! ' "  Duclercq,  torn. 
Iv.  p.  283. 


^'  Henricus  de  Merica,  De  Ram, 
p.  159. 

*°  "Lea  archives  de  rdchevinagc 
et  celles  de  la  cour  du  souverain 
bailliage  k  Namur  renfermcnt  les  ob- 
ligations contractdes  pour  la  ran9on 
de  plusieurs  Dinantais,  par  des  Na- 
murois,  leur  parents  ou  leurs  amis." 
Borgnet,  p.  59. 


H:<  J 


430 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


[book  1. 


all  the  inhabitants,  he  contended,  were  his  special 
prisoners,  a  portion  of  his  private  spoils.  Their  lives 
or  their  ransoms  —  whichever  he  might  choose  to 
exact  —  belonged  to  him  alone.  If  he  should  think 
fit,  he  might,  by  an  act  of  grace,  grant  them  a  free 
remission  from  the  penalties  they  had  incurred.**  He 
directed,  therefore,  that  inquiries  should  be  instituted, 
and  that  those  who  had  received  the  price  of  blood 
should  be  compelled  to  make  restitution.  The  pros- 
ecution of  this  claim  does  not  seem,  however,  to  have 
been  attended  with  success,  since  we  find  the  same 
orders  reiterated  at  a  later  period  by  Philip's  suc- 
cessor. 

Many  of  the  captives  had  been  left  for  safe  keep- 
ing at  Namur,  the  first  halting-place  after  the  army 
quitted  Dinant.  The  people  of  the  former  toAvn 
were  not  slow  to  perceive  the  advantages  they  might 
derive  from  the  presence  of  so  large  a  body  of  me- 
chanif^s.  the  most  expert  in  tHeir  occupation  of  any 
in  the  \^orld.  They  therefore  requested  and  ol)tained 
permission  from  their  sovereign  to  establish  foundries 
and  engage  in  the  manufacture  of  copper.*'  But, 
although  the  situation  was  in  all  respects  a  favorable 
one,  the  trade  does  not  appear  to  have  flourished  in 
the  soil  to  which  it  had  been  thus  violently  trans- 
planted. Elsewhere  in  the  Netherlands  we  find  traces 
of  the  people  of  Dinant,  who  were  permitted  to  form 


**  "  Par  ce  moien  toutes  les  per- 
sonnes  lors  estans  dedens  ladite  ville 
de  Dynant  fussent  h.  nous  et  en  nos- 
ti'c  disposition,  pour  les  faire  mourir. 
Ics  mcctre  ti  ranchon  ou  aultremcnt 


leur  faire  grace  et  misericorde,  selon 
nostre  bon  plaisir."  Borgnet,  Ap- 
pendice,  XIII. 

*'   Borgnet,    Appendices,    XIV., 
XV.,  XVII. 


CHAF.  IX.] 


FATE  OF  DINANT. 


431 


settlements  and  to  take  up  their  abode  in  certain 
towns  on  condition  of  their  remaining  within  strictly 
prescribed  limits.*'  Many,  however,  wandered  away 
into  France ;  while  a  considerable  number  found  the 
means  of  transporting  themselves  to  England  —  a 
country  with  which  they  had  long  maintained  mer- 
cantile relations,  and  where  they  now  received  the 
hospitality  and  protection  which  on  those  shores  have 
ever  been  accorded  alike  to  the  victim  of  tyranny  and 
to  the  fallen  tyrant.** 

But  in  their  new  homes  the  exiles  retained  recol- 
lections of  their  native  place  which  were  the  more 
vivid  and  the  more  dear  for  the  horrors  amidst  which 
they  had  quitted  it  and  the  miseries  they  had  since 
endured  In  the  year  1472  Charles  of  Burgundy 
gave  permission  for  the  erection  of  a  church  "  on  the 
spot  formerly  called  Dinant,"  and  also  of  a  few  dwell- 
ing houses  for  the  officiating  clergy,  on  condition  that 
not  more  than  two  persons  should  reside  in  each 
house.*^     It  was  not  till  many  years  after  his  death 


*^  Reiffcnberg,  Commerce  des 
Pays-bas.  —  A  colony  of  the  Dinan- 
tais  was  established  by  Charles  at 
Middlebourg,  in  Flanders.  Gachard, 
Doc.  Incd.,  torn.  ii.  p.  376,  note. 

**  These  refugees,  having  taken 
part  with  the  earl  of  Warwick  when 
the  latter  revolted  against  Edward 
IV.,  were  piniished  by  the  depriva- 
tion of  their  privileges.  Subsequent- 
ly, however,  Edward,  while  himself 
an  exile  at  Bruges,  granted  to  the 
Dinantais  ut  Middlebourg  —  in  re- 
turn, it  may  be  eurmised,  for  some 
assistance  i.i  the  preparations  he  was 


making  to  recover  liis  crown  —  the 
same  rights  and  exemptions  in  trad- 
ing with  England  which  their  ances- 
tors had  enjoyed.  Gachard,  ubi  su- 
pra. 

**  Gachard,  Analectes  Belgiques, 
pp.  318,  319. 

The  people  of  Bouvignes,  having 
at  the  time  of  the  destruction  of 
Dinant  taken  possession  of  the  bones 
of  "  Monseigneur  Saint  Perpete," 
with  the  shrine  containing  them, 
were  ordered  to  restore  them,  in 
1474,  when  the  cathedral  had  been 
rebuilt.    They  remonstrated,  on  the 


432 


SUBMISSION  OF  LI£gE. 


[book  I. 


that  leave  was  extorted  from  the  successors  of  this 
prince  for  the  reestablishmeiit  of  the  commune.  In 
1493  a  small  number  of  persons  —  among  whose 
names  is  found  that  of  the  brave  John  de  Gerin  — 
assembled  at  the  foot  of  the  fiimiliar  cliff,  and  by  the 
banks  of  the  river  whose  murmurs  had  in  foreign 
lands  so  often  mingled  with  their  dreams.  Here,  in 
accordance  with  the  terms  of  their  charter,  they 
formed  themselves  into  a  new  guild,  and  endeavored 
to  revive  the  trade  that  had  formerly  furnished  em- 
ployment for  so  large  a  population.*"  But  this  attempt 
proved  unsuccessful.  The  merchant  had  found  new 
marts  for  the  supply  of  his  wants.  The  Dinandcrie 
had  lost  its  attractions  or  the  men  of  Dinant  had  lost 
their  ancient  skill. 


Liege,  on  receiving  the  tidings  of  the  fall  of  Dinant, 
was  convidsed  with  grief  and  rage.  Day  by  day, 
while  the  attack  was  threatened,  letters  had  been 
received  in  the  capital  urging  immediate  succors. 
But  the  demagogues  well  knew  the  probable  issue 
of  a  contest  with  a  force  so  superior  in  discipline  and 
in  military  resources.  They  knew  that  the  feverish 
spirit  which  they  had  themselves  excited  could  not 
be  relied  upon  in  the  hour  of  danger.  The  letters, 
therefore,  were  suppressed.  The  people  were  in- 
formed that  the  peril  was  noi  imminent,  that  Dinant 

ground  that  they  had  become  the  judgment  deh'vered  by  that  court, 

lawful  proprietors  of  these  relics,  and  they  were  compelled,  in  1470,  to  sur- 

appealed  from  the  reiterated  orders  render  the  prize  which  they  had  held 

of  their  sovereiga  to  the  Parliament  with  so  tenacious  a  gi'asp. 

of  Midines.     In  accordance  with  a  "  Borgnet,  p.  63. 


CHAP.  IX.] 


SUBmSSION  OF  LIEGE. 


433 


had  the  means  of  maintaining  a  long  defence.  Even 
when  the  guilds  had  assembled,  and  demanded  to  be 
led  against  the  enemy,  a  pretext  was  found  for  defer- 
ring the  expedition.  The  standard  of  Saint  Lambert, 
without  which  it  would  be  unlawful  and  impious  to 
march,  could  not  be  delivered  to  the  army  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  chapter,  who,  at  the  summons  of  the 
bishop,  had  at  length  withdrawn  from  the  rebellious 
city. 

In  the  midst  of  these  discussions  a  messenger  ar- 
rived to  tell  that  it  was  too  late  —  that  Dinant. 
reduced  to  extremity,  hopeless  of  succoi,  had  surren- 
dered. When  the  stupor  produced  by  this  intelli- 
gence had  passed  a  cry  for  vengeance  arose;  and  the 
people  poured  by  a  common  impulse  through  the 
streets,  in  search  of  those  by  whom  they  had  beer, 
deceived.  De  Heers  escaped,  and  took  sanctuary  in 
the  inviolable  precincts  of  Saint  Lambert.  One  of  his 
colleagues  was  not  so  fortunate ;  he  was  caught,  and 
instantly  put  to  death  by  the  knives  of  his  captors. 
While  the  tumult  was  at  its  height  a  party  of  fugitives 
arrived;  among  them  Jean  de  Gerin,  whose  person  and 
character  were  well  known  to  the  citizens,  and  around 
whom  they  now  gathered  with  looks  that  betokened 
shame  and  self-reproach,  while  they  exposed  the 
treachery  by  which  they  had  been  prevented  from 
coming  to  the  relief  of  their  countrymen.  "Alas, 
friends ! "  replied  the  noble-hearted  man ;  "  it  was 
better  so.  Our  enemies  were  too  strong ;  you  could 
have  done  nothing  for  us,  and  would  only  have 
brought  the  same  ruin  on  yourselves."     These  words 

VOL.  I.  55 


r 

1 W]!!  ^ 

!•'; 

f           1  ,'i  ; 

H 

1 

V 

\ 

•' 

iL-r 

nn 

'i 

¥h » i:- 


K  * 


y  I 


43-4 


SUBmSSION  OF  LIEGE. 


[book  I. 


had  the  effect  of  calming  the  feelings  of  those  to 
whom  they  were  addressed.  It  was  now  necessary 
indeed  that  Liege  should  reflect  upon  its  own  situa- 
tion, and  prepare  at  once  for  submission  or  defence.*'' 
On  the  1st  of  September,  before  the  embers  of 
Dinant  were  yet  cold,  the  count  of  Charolais,  turning 
his  back  upon  a  scene  that  bore  the  ineffaceable 
marks  of  his  severity,  returned  to  Namur,  whence, 
two  days  later,  he  set  out,  at  the  head  of  his  trium- 
phant troops,  for  the  enemy's  capital.  On  the  6th 
he  found  himself  in  presence  of  a  force  consisting  of 
some  thirteen  thousand  infantry  and  a  few  hundred 
liorsemen,  strongly  posted  on  the  declivity  of  a  hill, 
and  enclosed  on  either  side  by  the  forked  branches 
of  a  river.  Instead  of  offering  battle,  however,  the 
leaders  of  this  meagre  army  sent  an  embassy  to  the 
Burgundian  chief,  soliciting  him  to  take  pity  on  "  the 
poor  people  of  Liclge,"  and  inquiring  on  what  condi- 
tions he  was  willing  to  admit  them  to  grace.  They 
were  told,  in  reply,  that  this  invasion  of  their  terri- 
tory was  for  the  purpose  of  enforcing  the  observance 
of  the  treaty  made  in  the  preceding  year.  Fiily 
hostages  were  demanded  of  them,  to  be  retained  until 
the  fine  imposed  upon  them  by  that  treaty  had  been 
paid ;  an  additional  subsidy  was  required  to  defray 
the  expenses  of  the  present  expedition ;  and  Charles 
further  insisted  that  an  officer  of  his  own  should  be 
admitted  into  the  city  to  reside  there  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  duke  in  his  capacity  of  "  Protector  of 

*''  Adrianus  de  Veieii-Bosco,  Am-    hannis  de  Los  Chronicon,  De  Ram, 
pliss.  Col.,  torn.  iv.  p.  1296.  —  Jo-    pp.  40,  41. 


been 
naturd 
to  rejl 

envo;^[ 
to  Ills  I 

The 
lord 
hold 
Liege 

the  st{j 
foreio-i 
pie  as  I 


ir; 


'ii:  ir 


CHAP.  IX.] 


SUBMISSION  OF  LIEGE. 


435 


Li^ge."  A  truce  of  twenty-four  hours  was  granted, 
during  which  the  envoys  were  to  return  to  the  capi- 
tal and  obtain  authority  from  their  constituents  for 
accepting  these  terms. 

In  spite  of  the  armistice,  some  apprehensions  were 
felt  by  the  Burgundian  leaders  lest  the  euemy's 
forces  should  profit  by  the  darkness  and  their  supe- 
rior knowledge  of  the  ground  to  make  an  attack 
upon  the  camp,  y  'uch,  from  want  of  sufficient  time 
to  bring  up  the  wagons,  had  not  been  enclosed  and 
fortified  as  usual.  But  the  men  of  Liege,  far  from 
meditating  such  a  project,  could  with  difiicalty  be 
kept  together  by  their  chiefs ;  and  on  the  following 
day,  when  they  perceived  the  ranks  of  the  opposite 
army  swelled  by  the  arrival  of  the  rearguard,  they 
broke  up  in  disorder  and  began  to  quit  the  ground. 
Some  of  Charles's  captains  would  have  persuaded 
him,  as  the  armistice  had  expired,  to  make  an  on- 
slaught on  the  retreating  foe,  who  must  soon  have 
been  overtaken,  scattered,  and  destroyed.  But  his 
natural  sentiments  of  j^  •  iice  and  of  honor  led  him 
to  reject  this  advice;  and,  after  a  short  delay,  the 
envo;^  made  their  appearance,  instructed  to  accede 
to  his  demands. 

The  treaty  having  been  arranged,  Guy  de  Brimeu, 
lord  of  Humbercourt,  a  member  of  Charles's  house- 
liold  and  the  most  trusted  of  his  counsellors,  entered 
Liege  for  the  purpose  of  assuming  that  authority  over 
the  state  which,  exercised  by  the  representative  of  a 
foreign  prince,  might  justly  be  regarded  by  the  peo- 
ple as  a  badge  of  conquest  and  of  slavery.   The  count 


iWr!^':^'" 


■u 


436 


DEATH  OF  PHILIP. 


[book  I. 


i 

j         .j 

'      :j 

1 

.i! 

1 

ii» 

i 

I'si^  iv 

I  I 

IN 


of  Charolais  then  marched  against  Thuin  and  one  or 
two  other  towns  of  the  principahty,  which,  warned 
by  the  fate  of  Dinant,  opened  their  gates,  and,  at 
the  command  of  the  victor,  razed  their  fortifications. 
When  these  operations  were  completed,  the  army 
was  disbanded,  and  officers  and  soldiers  returned  to 
their  homes,  laden  with  spoils,  and  loudly  expressing 
their  satisfaction  with  the  profitable  results  of  the 
campaign, 


48 


The  remainder  of  the  year  and  the  following 
spring  were  spent  by  the  count  of  Charolais  in  vis- 
iting the  different  provinces  of  the  Netherlands.  In 
every  town  through  which  he  passed  he  was  received 
with  the  honors  usually  reserved  for  the  sovereign. 
The  time,  indeed,  was  at  hand  when  he  was  himsell' 
to  assume  that  title,  and  to  exercise  in  his  own  right 
the  powers  which  he  now  wielded  as  the  lieutenant 
of  his  father. 

Satisfied  with  the  punishment  which  he  had  seen 
inflicted  upon  Dinant,  Philip,  instead  of  accompany- 
ing the  army  in  its  march  against  Liege,  had  travelled 
homewards  by  easy  stages,  and  devoted  the  remainder 
of  his  days  to  quiet  and  religious  raeditation.^^  In 
the  following  June,  1467,  while  residing  at  Bruges, 
he  was  seized  with  a  fatal  illness.     His  son  received 

*^  Commines,  torn.  i.  pp.  118-120.  399,  et  seq.  —  Lamarche,  torn.  ii. 

—  Haynin,  torn.  ii.   pp.  73-76.  —  p.  260. 

Duclercq,  torn,  i v.  pp.  284-291. —        -'  "  Ipst  qui  senio  premebatuv, 

Adrianus  de  Veteri-Bosco,  Ampliss.  vacabat  contemplationi,  orationibus 

Col.,  torn.  iv.  p.   1296,  et  seq.  —  et  quieti."    Theodoricus  Paulus,  De 

Gachard,  Doc.   Ined.,   torn.  ii.  p.  Ham,  p.  194. 


HAP.  n.] 


DEATH  OF  I'HILIP. 


437 


rche,  torn,  li- 


the intelligence  at  Ghent,  and,  instantly  quitting  that 
town,  rode  with  such  haste  that  he  outstripped  his 
escort,  and  arrived  at  Bruges  unaccompanied  by  a 
single  attendant.  Hastening  to  the  chamber  of  the 
duke,  he  gave  utterance  to  a  burst  of  grief,  which 
those  who  were  present,  contrasting  it  with  the  settled 
sternness  of  his  nature  and  the  rigor  of  his  ordinary 
acts,  could  not  behold  without  amazement.''*'  But 
there  was  no  simulation  in  those  tears  or  in  the  con- 
vulsive agitation  of  that  iron  frame.  It  is  certain 
that  this  man,  so  cruel  and  implacable  to  his  foes,  so 
cold  and  exacting  in  his  treatment  of  his  dependants, 
felt  the  strongest  affection  for  his  father,  and  looked 
back  upon  their  former  differences  with  the  deepest 
remorse.  He  remembered  how  he  had  thwarted  his 
father's  wishes;  how  he  had  shown  but  too  little  ten- 
derness for  his  prejudices  and  for  the  tenacity  with 
which  Philip  clung  to  the  connections  and  associations 
of  his  early  life ;  and  how,  in  the  eagerness  of  his  am- 
bition, he  had  taken  advantage  of  the  duke's  infirmities 
and  peril  to  gain  immediate  possession  of  a  supremacy 
so  soon  to  be  his  by  the  course  of  nature.  He  called 
to  mind,  perhaps,  that  night  when  the  old  man,  baffled 
by  the  oJ)position  of  a  will  even  more  violent  and 
stubborn  than  his  own,  had  rushed  forth  into  the 
darkness  and  the  storm,  and  wandered  as  if  insane 

Stung 


through  the  pathless  thickets  of  the  forest. 


'''  Idem,  ubi  supra.  —  Dudercq,  qu'il  en  monstra ;  car  Ic  cuidoit-on 
torn.  iv.  p.  302. — "  N'eust-on  k  paine  plus  dur  en  corage,  pour  aulcunes 
jamais  creu  par  avant  qu'il  en  deust  causes  passees ;  mais  nature  le  vain- 
avoir  fait  le  quart  ou  le  qumt  de  dueil  quit."    Chastellain,  p.  394. 


438 


DEATH  OF  PHILIR 


[book  I. 


If  I  ;! 


n''r 


by  such  recollections  as  these,  Charles  threw  himself 
on  his  knees  at  the  bed-.si(le,  and  besought  forgive- 
ness and  a  blessing  from  the  dying  prince.  Philip 
had  lost  the  power  of  speech ;  but,  adjured  by  his 
confessor  to  give  some  token  cf  response  to  this  ap- 
peal, he  turned  his  eyes  upon  the  supplicant,  and 
feebly  returned  the  pressure  of  his  hand.''^ 

On  the  15th  of  June  the  duke  breathed  liis  last, 
having  lived  seventy-two  years,  and  reigned  forty- 
eight.  There  is  no  question  that  he  was  beloved  by 
all  classes  of  his  subjects,  or  that  the  outward  signs  of 
mourning  generally  assumed  at  his  decease  were  the 
indications  of  a  real  sorrow.  What  they  mourned, 
indeed,  was  not  so  much  a  man  as  an  era.  Under 
Philip  tlie  Good  the  Netherlands  had  risen  to  a  height 
of  prosperity  that  was  the  envy  of  the  world.  We 
may  dissent  from  the  judgiment  of  those  writers  who 
attribute  this  prosperity  and  the  flourishing  condition 
of  the  arts  during  Philip's  reign  to  his  wise  protection 
and  enlightened  patronage,  and  who  rank  him  among 
great  rulers.  But  the  union  of  the  different  prov- 
inces had  been  productive  of  advantages  which  were 
shared  by  all ;  and  one  solid  blessing  Philip  had 


*'  "  Se  jetta  devant  son  peve  a 
penoulx,  tenrement  plourant,  lui  re- 
querrant  sa  benediction,  et  que  s'au- 
cune  chose  lui  avoit  mefTait  qu'il  lui 
pardonnast ;  au  plus  pres  du  due  es- 
toit  son  confesseur  evesque,  lequel 
Tadmonesta  et  pria  moult,  que  s'il 
ovoit  encoires  entendement  qu'il  le 
monstrat,  et  que  au  moins  s'il  ne 
pooit  parler,  qn'il  feit  aulcun  sigue ; 


a  laquelle  udmonestation,  voeulx  et 
prieres  de  son  fils,  il  retourna  ses 
yeux  sur  sondit  fils,  et  le  regarda,  et 
lui  esteindit  la  main,  laquelle  il  avoit 
mis  sur  la  sienne,  et  aultre  signe  ne 
lui  pent  faire  ne  feit ;  le  comte  sou 
fils  flist  toujours  empr^s  lui,  tant  qu'il 
rendit  Tame  et  qu'il  ftist  expire." 
Duclereq,  torn.  iv.  p.  303. 


6« 


~Ar 
li.  p. 
397. 

the 
tomb 


CHAP.  Vt.] 


DEATH  OF  PHILIP. 


430 


assuredly  bestowed  upon  the  land :  he  had  given  it 
peace  —  peace  in  an  nge  of  violence,  and  at  a  tinit* 
when  he  might  naturally  have  been  expected  to  en- 
gage in  war  as  a  means  of  extending  his  dominion. 
Some  years  were  to  elapse  before  his  remains  could 
be  conveyed  with  fitting  ceremony  to  their  final  rest- 
ing place,  beside  those  of  his  father  and  grandfather, 
in  the  family  mausoleum  at  Dijon.  For  the  present 
they  were  deposited  ir  the  Churc^  of  Saint  Donatus 
at  Bruges.  Thither  they  were  b'.Ti'^  it  night  amid 
the  blaze  of  sixteen  hundred  ir  hes.  More  than  a 
score  of  prelates  officiated  at  a.*,  c'jsequies;  and  the 
formalities  observed  were  similar  t^  those  that  usuall}' 
accompanied  the  interment  f>  French  monarch.'*- 
The  heralds  broke  their  batons  above  the  bier,  and 
proclaimed,  in  doleful  tones,  that  Philip,  duke  of  four 
duchies,  count  of  seven  counties,  lord  of  innumerable 
lordships,  was  dead.  Then,  raising  their  voices  to  the 
loftiest  pitch,  they  cried,  "  Long  Uve  Charles,  duke  of 
Burgundy,  of  Brabant,  of  Limbourg,  and  of  Luxem- 
bourg; count  of  Flanders,  of  Artois,  of  Burgundy, 
of  Hainault,  of  Holland,  of  Zealand,  and  of  Namur ; 
marquis  of  the  Holy  Empire ;  lord  of  Friesland,  of 
Malines,"  &c.  The  multitude  that  thronged  the 
church  responded  with  a  jubilant  acclaim.' 


63 


»»  Duclercq,  torn.  iv.  pp.  303-307. 
—  Ancien  Chronique,  Lenglet,  torn, 
ii.  p.  189.  —  Chastellain,  pp.  390, 
397. 

'^  The  mention  by  Duclercq  of 
the  "  white  batons  "  thrown  into  the 
tomb  indicates  that  the  usual  proc- 


lamation followed.  Conf.  the  de- 
scription, from  manuscripts  in  the 
library  of  the  dukes  of  Burgundy, 
of  the  ceremonies  common  at  the  in- 
terment of  a  sovereign  of  the  Neth- 
erlands, in  Marchal,  Vie  politique  do 
Charles-Quint. 


440 


u 


DEATH  OF  PHILIP. 


[book  I. 


But  he  for  whom  these  shouts  were  raised  sat 
wrapt  in  thought  and  grief,  as  if  bome  inward  pre- 
science mocked  the  echoing  sound,  forebodings  of  the 
brief  career  before  him,  —  its  empty  triumphs,  its 
deep  Iiumiliations,  —  of  that  last,  desperate  struggle, 
that  final  overthrow,  that  horrid  death,  that  burial 
by  hostile  hands  upon  a  hostile  soil;  the  exultings, 
the  curses,  not  of  enemies  alone,  but  of  vassals,  of 
friends,  of  those,  perchance,  whose  voices  were  now 
the  loudest  in  the  loyal  cry,  "  Long  live  the  duke !"  ** 


**  See  the  curious  passage  in  Chas- 
tellain  beginning,  "  Charles,  novelle- 
ment  due  de  Bourgoigne,  nd  prince 
de  grande  venure  et  de  haulte  at- 
tente,  fils  d'ung  p6re  qui  n'a  pareil, 
et  d'ung  due  dont  le  nom  ternist  les 
touronne,  que  sids-tu  ici,  et  te  raain- 
tiengs  morne  et  peoaifP"    (p.  397, 


et  seq.)  It  is  somewhat  remarka- 
ble that  Chastellain,  who  died  while 
Charles  was  still  at  the  height  of  his 
power  and  reputation,  attributes  to 
him,  in  more  than  one  place,  the  pre- 
sentiment of  an  early  death.  "  Cre- 
moit  la  mort  et  la  courte  vie." 


1*8 

IP 


'■'i: 


H 


BOOK  II. 


CHAPTER  I. 


BRUGES  AND  GHENT.  —  THE  JOYOUS   ENTRY  AND  THE  "  POOLS   OF 
SAINT  Ll£viN."  -  RELATIVE  POSITIONS  OF  LOUIS  AND  CHARLES. 


1467. 


At  the  age  of  thirty-three,  in  the  full  vigor  of  a 
mind  that  seemed  incapable  of  vacillation  or  of  fear, 
and  of  a  body  that  never  shrank  from  labor  or  felt 
fatigue,  Charles  of  Burgundy  had  come  into  possession 
of  an  inheritance  not  surpassed  by  that  of  any  prince 
in  Christendom.  Other  princes  might  have  loftier 
titles,  a  greater  nominal  authority,  or  a  more  extended 
dominion ;  but  there  was  none  who  ruled  with  more 
substantial  power,  or  whose  revenues  were  derived 
from  sources  so  copious  and  unfailing.  The  Nether- 
lands were  wealthy  while  other  countries  were  poor ; 
they  had  practised  the  arts  of  peace  while  the  rest 
of  Europe  was  cursed  with  continual  war.  England 
was  still  passing  through  the  chaotic  struggle  of  her 
rival  roses.  France  was  still  threatened  with  disrup- 
tion.   Spain,  Italy,  and  Germany  were  each  divided 


TOL.S. 


66 


.HI) 


442 


BRUGES. 


[itUOK   II. 


p!|ii:||^^ 


into  petty  states,  engaged  in  perpetual  feuds.  The 
Netherlands  alone  suffered  from  no  internal  causes 
of  disquiet ;  their  territory  was  wasted  by  no  foreign 
enemy;  the  inhabitants,  content  in  the  enjoyment 
of  a  well  secured  freedom  and  of  an  unparalelled 
prosperity,  found  a  sufficient  bond  of  union  in  loyalty 
to  their  common  ruler.  He,  fortunate  among  princes, 
might  sit  in  undisturbed  serenity,  exercising  a  mild 
sway,  counting  his  fair  towns,  his  heaps  of  treasure, 
his  swarms  of  traders  and  artisans. 

Bruges,  where  the  late  sovereign  had  just  been 
entombed  amid  the  same  pomp  with  which  he  had 
surrounded  himself  in  life,  was  at  this  time  in  the 
zenith  of  its  prosperity.  It  was  the  centre  of  European 
commerce.  It  was  the  mart  where  the  commodities 
of  the  three  discovered  quarters  of  the  world  were 
brought  for  exchange  and  distribution.  Here  were 
to  be  seen  collected  the  costly  gems  and  fragrant 
spices  of  the  East,  the  drugs  and  dyes  of  Italy,  the 
olives  and  the  wines  of  France,  the  wool  of  England 
and  of  Spain,  the  corn  and  other  agricultural  prod- 
ucts of  Germany  and  Scandinavia,  and  the  ivory,  the 
skins,  the  feathers,  and  the  gum  brought  by  roving 
navigators  from  the  coast  of  Barbary.  Seventeen 
incorporated  trading  companies,  from  as  many  differ- 
ent states,  were  established  at  Bruges ;  many  foreign 
governments  sent  their  factors,  or  agents,  to  reside 
there ;  and  representatives  of  all  the  great  commer- 
cial houses  in  Europe  met  daily  on  the  exchange  to 
discuss  the  variations  of  the  agio  and  the  rise  or  fall 
of  prices. 


OBAT.  I.] 


BRUOES. 


443 


The  habits  and  style  of  living  at  Bruges  were  sin- 
gularly festive  and  luxurious.  The  residence  in  the 
town  of  so  many  men  of  princely  wealth,  natives  and 
foreigners,  and  the  constant  influx  of  strangers  hav- 
ing commercial  relations  with  the  inhabitants,  called 
for  the  exercise  of  an  emulous  and  unstinted  hospi- 
tality. The  banquets  were  composed  of  the  rarest 
delicacies,  the  tribute  from  regions  distant  and  near 
to  the  metropolis  of  trade ;  while  the  board  was 
graced  by  the  presence  of  women  famed  beyond 
those  of  other  cities  for  their  personal  charms  and 
arrayed  with  a  magnificence  that  moved  the  envy  of 
queens.  The  nobles  of  the  country,  drawn  thither 
by  these  manifold  attractions,  made  Bruges  the  scene 
of  many  a  brilliant  spectacle ;  and  often,  in  the 
thronged  streets  and  market-places,  the  bustle  and 
the  hum  of  commerce  were  suspended  as  the  trumpet 
breathed  forth  its  martial  strains,  and  knights  and 
squires  went  by  in  all  the  pomp  of  chivalry.  Here, 
too,  the  sovereign  often  held  his  court ;  and  especially 
was  Bruges  selected  as  the  fittest  place  to  celebrate 
his  nuptials.  Here  the  first  Philip  had  wedded  the 
haughty  Margaret,  the  heiress  of  the  land,  and  the 
second  Philip  his  southern  princess,  commemorating 
the  occasion  by  the  institution  of  the  Golden  Fleece, 
recognized  by  Flanders  as  a  type  of  that  industry 
which  had  brought  the  wealth  of  the  world  into 
her  lap. 

In  less  than  half  a  century  this  prosperity,  raised 
apparently  on  so  secure  a  basis,  was  to  fade  and  dip- 
appear.    The  spacious  streets  and  sqv  res  of  Bruf!^;  s 


■  Hf"    !.#T" 


TJJ    :\ 


n 


If'  i 


444 


GHENT. 


[book  II. 


are  now  silent  and  grass-grown.  Many  tenantlcFs 
and  vacant  spaces  are  found  within  the  too  ample 
circuit  of  its  walls.  But  to  the  traveller,  and  espe- 
cially to  the  antiquary,  it  is  still  the  most  interesting 
city  of  the  Netherlands ;  for  many  relics  of  its  former 
greatness  are  still  preserved,  and  the  stately  houses, 
built  not  with  a  dull  oiiiformity  of  aspect,  but  in 
varied  styles  of  architecture,  carry  back  the  mind  of 
the  spectator  to  a  period  when  this  was  the  chosen 
residence  of  men  from  every  land. 

From  Bruges  Charles  prepared,  some  days  after 
his  accession,  to  take  his  departure  for  Ghent,  the 
metropolis  of  Flanders,  where  he  was  to  receive  for- 
mal possession  of  the  province  and  to  be  acknowl- 
edged as  its  count  Ghent  was  a  manufacturing 
town.  Here  the  population  was  homogeneous,  and 
the  national  manners  were  displayed  without  any 
foreign  intermixture.  Tlie  mode  of  living  was  more 
simple  than  in  Bruges;^  the  accumulation  of  wealth 
was  less ;  the  municipal  privileges  were  greater ;  and 
the  mass  of  the  people  was  more  largely  endowed 
with  political  rights  and  power." 

The  working  population  was  divided  into  fifty-two 
guilds;  but  the  "great  guild,"  that  of  the  weavers, 


'  "  Brugcnses  et  Gandenses  longe 
diversis  inter  se  dissident  moribus. 
Splendidus,  magnificus,  delicatus, 
liberalis,  suisque  nonnunquam  pro- 
fusus  est  Brugensis.  Contra  Gan- 
densis  paricor,  contractior,  minor 
fluarum  opum  ostentator,  minore 
strepitu,   minorique    luxuria  vitam 


transigens."    Meyer,  Rerum  Flan- 
dricarum  Tomi  X.,  p.  80. 

*  Something  of  an  aristocratic 
contempt  for  mechanical  industry  is 
noticeable  in  the  polity  of  Bruges. 
Craftsmen  were  not  eligible  to  p'ly 
office  unless  they  had  abstained  from 
manual  labor  for  a  year  and  a  day. 


[book  II. 

y  tenantlef^s 
te  too  ample 
er,  and  espe- 
st  interesting 
of  its  former 
tately  houses, 
,spect,  but  in 
:  the  mind  of 
18  the  chosen 

ne  days  after 
:or  Ghent,  the 
to  receive  for- 
o  be  acknowl- 
manufacturing 
logeneous,  and 
i  without  any 
Lving  was  more 
Ltion  of  wealth 
•e  greater ;  and 
Tgely  endowed 

d  into  fifty-two 
Df  the  weavers, 

Meyer,  Rerum  Flan- 

i  X.,  p.  80. 

g   of   un  aristocratic 

nechanical  industr}'  is 
the  polity  of  Brugef . 
re  not  eligible  to  p'Y 
ley  had  abstained  from 
for  a  year  and  a  day. 


CHAP.  I.] 


GHENT. 


445 


was  supposed  to  comprise  one  third  of  the  inhabitants, 
and  it  exercised  a  proportionate  influence  in  the  af- 
fairs of  the  town.  To  these  Flemish  weavers  and 
spinners  of  the  fifteenth  century  the  Lancashire 
"operatives"  of  the  nineteenth  stand  related  in  a 
direct  line  of  descent.  England,  whose  magnetic, 
accumulating,  and  assimilating  power  forms  the  dis- 
tinctive feature  of  her  earlier  history,  —  as  her  com- 
municative, diffusive,  and  irradiating  power  is  the 
grand  characteristic  of  her  modern  and  imperial  ca- 
reer, —  owes  more,  perhaps,  to  the  Netherlands  than 
to  all  other  countries  combined.  She  succeeded  to 
the  commercial  supremacy  of  which  the  foundations 
were  collected  and  laid  by  them ;  she  borrowed  from 
them  the  manufactures  which  her  own  inventive 
genius  has  perfected  and  her  greater  enterprise  has 
enabled  her  infinitely  to  extend.  All  their  trovibles 
and  disasters  enured  to  her  advantage ;'  while,  in 
her  own  convulsions,  she  parted  with  nothing  she 
had  received,  except  to  her  colonies  and  dependent 
possessions. 

If  it  were  possible  for  one  who  lived  in  a  former 
age  to  revisit  earth,  no  spectacle  would  so  excite  his 


'  In  the  sixteenth  century  we  find 
Cardinal  Granvelle  frequently  com- 
plaining of  the  change  that  had  taken 
])laee  in  the  commercial  relations  be- 
tween the  two  countries  —  England 
sending  to  the  Netherlands  many 
manufiicturcd  articles,  especially 
woollen,  which  she  had  formerly  im- 
ported from  them  while  supplying 
them,  in  return,  with  the  raw  mate- 


rial. Granvelle's  remedies  were,  of 
coui'se,  prohibitory  laws  and  the 
compulsory  prevention  of  emigra- 
tion. But  the  duke  of  Alva,  with 
whom  injury  to  England  was  only  a 
secondary  consideration,  —  the  ruin 
of  Flanders  being  the  primary  object 
of  his  mission,  —  did  his  best  to  ac- 
celerate the  tide. 


446 


GHENT. 


[book  II. 


I' 


ri    1 


amazement  as  the  scene  of  those  enormous  labors 
which  Science  has  imposed  upon  the  forces  of  Nature 
—  where  matter  and  the  elements  appear  endowed 
with  life,  with  the  intelligent  and  wonder-working 
capacity  of  genii ;  where  man  seems  reduced  to  insig- 
nificance in  the  presence  of  those  powers  which  he 
has  subdued  to  his  own  use,  a,nd  which  he  rules  on 
the  condition  that  he  shall  ceaselessly  watch  their 
operations,  supply  their  demands,  and  yield  a  prompt 
submission  to  their  laws,  performing  his  portion  of 
the  task  as  if  himself  a  lever  or  a  wheel  in  the  ma- 
chinery  which  he  has  created  and  set  in  motion. 
Could  we,  on  the  other  hand,  look  back  through  four 
centuries,  and  see  what  were  then  the  great  centres 
of  industry  in  the  fulness  of  their  life,  our  interest 
and  admiration  might  be  equally  excited,  though 
from  a  different  cause.  The  spindles  and  looms  with 
which  Flanders,  in  the  Middle  Ages,  furnished  linen 
and  woollen  fiibrics  for  the  world  differed  little  from 
those  that  had  been  in  use  thousands  of  years  before 
on  the  shores  of  the  Euphrates  and  the  Nile.  Tlio 
workmen,  instead  of  being  congregated  by  hundreds 
in  spacious  halls,  performed  their  solitary  tasks  under 
their  own  roofs  in  small  and  dimly  lighted  rooms. 
But  they  were  bound  together  by  ties  of  fellowship 
and  subordinated  to  an  invisible  direction  that  deter- 
mined the  whole  course  and  manner  of  their  exist- 
ence, and  rendered  them  parts  of  a  great  human 
machine  complicated  in  its  structure  and  regular  in 
its  operations.  Whether  as  apprentices,  "companions," 
or  masters,  they  were  all  members  of  a  guild,  endowed 


CHAP.  I.] 


GHENT. 


447 


with  its  privileges  and  subject  to  its  discipline.  Un- 
der the  same  organization  they  were  citizens  and 
soldiers.  Let  the  tocsin  sound,  let  Rolandt  send  forth 
his  harsh,  imperious  summons,  —  "yl&  ic  luyde  dann  ist 
storm  in  Vlamderhndt" — and  looms  and  workshops 
are  deserted,  the  fifty  thousand  able-bodied  men  of 
Ghent  pour  through  the  streets,  assemble  at  the  ap- 
pointed station,  and  constitute  a  mass  united  by  the 
strongest  elements  of  cohesion  and  governed  by  rec- 
ognized principles  of  order  and  command. 

Class  privileges  and  monopolies,  which  grew  in 
time  to  be  so  hateful  and  oppressive,  were  neverthe- 
less the  stepping-stones  to  that  general  freedom  and 
unrestrained  competition  which  are  now  considered 
as  the  essential  conditions  of  industrial  development 
and  progress.  Whatever  is  one  day  to  be  exercised 
as  a  common  right  by  the  whole  mass  must  first  be 
enjoyed  as  the  exclusive  privilege  of  a  few.  This  is 
Nature's  process.  She  it  was  who  fashioned  the  little 
republics,  the  free  cities,  and  trade  communities  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  with  their  selfish  rivalries,  their 
narrow  but  ardent  spirit  of  enterprise.  The}^  were 
the  models  by  which  she  tried  her  schemes  before 
she  put  them  into  operation  on  a  scale  better  suited 
to  the  conception.  It  needed  the  jealous  sentiment, 
the  strict  union,  the  pride  and  conscious  superiority 
of  a  favored  class,  to  keep  alive  the  arts  of  civiliza- 
tion that  bloomed  in  these  islets  surrounded  b}'"  an 
ocean  oi  anarchy  and  turbulence.  Hence  the  self- 
devotion  with  wiiioh  the  inhabitants  were  ever  ready 
to  defend  the  common  interests  when  assailed  j  hence, 


• 


I 


448 


QHliNT. 


[book  II. 


too,  the  grudging  eyes  with  which  they  saw  the  same 
blessings  extended  to  their  neighbors. 

Throughout  the  Middle  Ages  Gh  mt  was  distin- 
guished above  every  other  town  by  jts  mutinous  and 
stubborn  disposition,  its  tyrannical  sway  over  th^ 
smaller  towns  and  villages  of  its  dependent  territory, 
its  perpetual  strife  with  places  regarded  as  its  rivals, 
and  its  frequent  revolts  against  its  princes.  Its  proper 
history  as  a  great  and  free  city  terminates  ^\ith  the 
dreadful  chastisement  inflicted  on  it  by  the  Emperor 
Charles  the  Fifth  in  1527,  from  the  ruinous  effects  of 
which  it  never  recovered.  But  <already,  under  Philip 
tlie  Good,  it  had  felt  the  intiiience  of  that  union  and 
gradual  consolidation  of  tiie  uilferent  provinces  which 
must  in  time  prove  fatal  to  the  too  arrogant  preten 
sions  of  any  single  town.  After  a  rebellion  which 
lasted  for  more  than  two  years  Client  was  overpow- 
ered and  compelled  to  make  submission.  Its  magis- 
trates appeared  before  the  duke  in  their  shirts  and  with 
rope?  ar  >ut  their  necks.  Three  of  the  principal  gates 
were  iitiiled  up,  and  condemned  to  remain  forever 
closed,  in  memorv  of  the  doom  of  total  destruction 
which  the  place  was  held  to  have  incurred;  the  guilds 
were  deprived  of  their  banners  and  their  weapons ; 
several  hundred  persons  were  hanged,  drowned,  or 
beheaded ;  and,  in  lieu  of  the  usual  mulct,  a  tax  known 
as  the  cueillottc,  similar  in  its  nature  to  the  octroi  of 
France  and  the  akaiitara  of  Castille,  was  levied  upon 
every  article  brought  into  the  city  or  exposed  for  sale. 

In  this  war,  as  already  mentioned,  Charles  of  Bur- 
gundy had  made  his  first  essay  in  arms.    The  fierj 


'i  \ 


rUw 


[boos  n. 

lW  the  same 

■was  distin- 
lUtinous  and 
ly  over  tho 
;nt  territory, 
as  its  rivals, 
s.  Its;proper 
ites  %\ith  the 
the  Emperor 
ous  effects  of 
,  vinder  Philip 
lat  union  and 
•evinces  which 
rogant  preten 
jbellion  which 
was  overpow- 
n.    Its  magis- 
shirts  and  with 
principal  gates 
-emain  forever 
tal  destruction 
•red;  the  guilds 
their  weapons ; 
d,  drowned,  or 
ct,  a  tax  known 
:o  the  octroi  of 
as  levied  upon 
ixposed  for  sale. 
Icharles  of  Bur- 
The  fiery 


OUAF.  I.] 


THE  JOYOUS  ENTRY. 


449 


valor  with  which  he  had  defended  his  father's  cause 
had  done  him  no  disservice  in  the  eyerf  of  the  people 
against  whom  he  had  fought.  During  his  retirement 
from  the  court  they  had  been  solicitous  in  offering 
him  their  sympathy  and  in  assuring  him  of  their 
readiness  to  support  him  in  his  rights  —  a  circum- 
stance which  led  Philip  to  remark  that  Ghent  was 
ever  loyal  to  the  son  of  its  sovereign,  but  never  to 
tlie  sovereign  himself  No  doubt  the  citizens  antici- 
pated that  the  prince,  on  his  accession  to  the  throne, 
would  show  his  gratitude  for  this  demonstration  of 
their  attachment  by  relieving  them  of  the  penalties 
imposed  upon  them  since  their  last  revolt.  Nor  was 
Charles,  when  the  occasion  arrived,  unprepared  to 
make  some  concessions  in  their  behalf.  Knowing, 
however,  the  difference  that  might  probably  be  found 
between  their  expectations  and  what  he  was  willing 
to  grant,  he  made  close  inquiries  of  the  deputation 
which  had  come  to  invite  him  to  Ghent  in  regard  •> 
the  present  temper  of  the  people.  Being  satisfie;' 
with  the  assurances  he  received  on  this  head,  he  took 
his  departure  from  Bruges,  escorted  by  a  large  body 
of  nobles,  and  carrying  with  him  no  only  his  young 
daughter,  but  the  immense  treasure  of  jewels  and 
gold  crowns  which  Philip  had  left  at  his  decease.^ 

In  accordance  with  an  invariable  usage,  the  duke 
halted  for  the  night  at  the  villa  j;e  of  Swynaerde,  at 
a  league's  distance  from  Ghent.**  Hither  had  /'ocked 
a  great  number  of  persons  who,  at  different  times, 

*  Chastellain,  p.  401,  et  seq.  delajoyeuseentrdediicon'teCharles, 

*  Rapport  de  ce  qui  est  arrive  lors    Gachaid,  Doc.  Indd.,  torn.  i.  p.  210. 
VOL.  I.  57 


.fr 


£i.^.« 


#►>!*• 


450 


(IHENT. 


[book   II. 


had  been  banished  from  the  city  for  political  and 
other  offences,  and  who  had  now  assembled  to  present 
their  petitions  to  the  prince  for  pardon  and  the  res- 
titution of  their  civil  rights.  Exile  was  then  a  com- 
mon punishment  even  for  crimes  of  no  light  magni- 
tude ;  and  it  was  customary  for  a  new  sovereign, 
on  the  occasion  of  his  "joyous  entry,"  —  as  his  first 
visit  to  a  place  after  his  accession  was  called,  —  to 
grant  a  liberid  measure  of  his  grace  to  those  who  had 
in  tliis  manner  been  deprived  of  invaluable  privileges, 
tlie  loss  of  which,  to  such  as  had  long  enjoyed  them, 
was  second  only  to  that  of  life  itself  The  persons 
who  now  hoped  to  receive  the  benefit  of  this  custom 
spent  the  night  in  a  neighboring  meadow ;  and  Charles 
directed  that  each  separate  case  should  be  investi- 
gated, in  order  that  the  more  guilty  of  their  number 
should  be  prevented,  in  the  morning,  from  joining 
his  train." 

It  happened  that  the  following  day  (Sunday,  June 
28)  was  the  anniversary  of  a  popular  festival  —  one 
of  those  celebrations,  partly  religious  and  partly  satur- 
nalian  in  their  character,  which  were  common  through- 
out Catholic  Europe,  and  especially  in  Flanders,  where 
they  were  marked  by  a  greater  freedom  and  coarse- 
ness, if  not  by  more  hilarity,  than  elsewhere.  It  was 
the  Fete  of  Saint  Lievin,  a  martyr  of  the  seventh 
century,  whose  bones  were  still  preserved  in  the  ca- 
thedral of  Ghent.  The  people  were  accustomed  to 
assemble  in  the  morning  in  front  of  the  church,  and, 
having  received  from  the  canons  the  shrine  contain- 

'  Chastellain,  p.  404. 


[book  II. 


CHAP.  I.] 


THE  JOYOTTS  ENTRY. 


451 


political  and 
,ed  to  present 
I  and  the  res- 
1  then  a  coni- 
)  light  magni- 
ew  sovereign, 

as  his  first 

lis  called,  — to 
those  who  had 
ahle  privileges, 
enjoyed  them, 
;    The  persons 
:  of  this  custom 
ow;  and  Charles 
ould  be  investi- 
of  their  number 
ig,  from  joining 


ing  the  precious  relics,  they  carried  it  in  procession 
to  the  village  of  Houthem,  the  spot  on  which  the  saint 
had  suflfered  martyrdom.     Here  the  "  Fools  of  Saint 
Li^vin"  passed  the  day  and  the  succeeding  night  in 
revelry  and  in  broils,  which  were  now,  however,  less 
often  attended  with  serious  consequences  than  for- 
merly, when  the  members  of  the  guilds  had  been  per- 
mitted to  go  armed.    The  next  morning  they  returned 
home,  and  deposited  in  his  usual  resting-place  the 
saint  whose  memory  they  had  thus  desecrated  by  their 
carousals.''     On  the  present  occasion  the  magistrates, 
foreseeing  the  inconveniences  that  might  arise  if  the 
duke  should  make  his  entrance  at  a  time  when  the 
streets  were  filled  with  revellers,  and  all  regulations 
for  the  maintenance  of  order  would  be  set  at  nought, 
had  directed  that  the  procession  should  leave  the  town 
on  the  Saturday  evening,  and  should  not  return  till 
the  following  Monday.^     In  consequence  of  this  wise 
arrangement  the  utmost  decorum  prevailed  on  the 
morning  of  Sunday,  when  Charles,  preceded  by  the 
municipal  authorities,  by  the  clergy  and  religious  or- 
ders, and  by  the  deans  of  the  guilds  and  the  principal 
citizens,  who  had  come  out  to  meet  him,  and  followed 
by  his  nobles,  and  by  the  pardoned  exiles  to  the  num- 
ber of  nearly  eight  hundred,  passed  through  the  gate, 
and  took  his  way  to  the  Church  of  Saint  John.    Here 
he  swore,  in  the  usual  form,  to  maintain  the  privileges 
of  the  county.     In  like  manner  an  oath  was  admin- 
istered to  the  representatives  of  the  people  that  they 


Chastelloin,  p.  403. 


*  Rapport,  Gachard,  Doc.  In^d.,  ubi  supra. 


<;!  I 


452 


GHENT. 


[book  II. 


BMS:,, 


U 


would  be  his  good  and  loyal  subjects.  A  cord  was 
then  placed  in  his  hand  attached  to  a  bell,  which  he 
sounded,  in  token  that  he  had  assumed  the  sove- 
reignty of  Flanders.  When  the  ceremonies  were 
concluded  he  retired,  with  the  members  of  his  suite, 
to  the  lodgings  prepared  for  him.' 

In  the  mean  time  the  lower  orders  of  the  people, 
indifferent,  as  it  seemed,  in  regard  to  the  arrival  of 
their  prince,  spent  the  day  at  Houthem  in  riotous 
festivity.  It  was  not  till  the  afternoon  of  Monday 
that  they  prepared  to  return  to  Ghent.  A  great 
number  of  them  were  intoxicated;  but  there  were 
others,  as  it  soon  appeared,  who  had  occupied  them- 
selves with  a  more  serious  business  than  that  which 
had  formed  the  ostensible  pretext  for  the  assembly, 
and  who  now  assumed  the  direction  of  the  proceed- 
ings. "When  the  procession  was  formed  every  man 
was  found  to  be  provided  '.vith  weapons.  Banners, 
too,  were  kept  in  readiness  to  be  displayed  when  the 
proper  moment  had  arrived.  Selecting  their  route, 
they  entered  the  city  through  a  narrow  street,  in 
which  stood  a  house  used  by  the  collectors  of  the 
odious  cudUoUe  in  the  transaction  of  their  business. 
Here  the  procession  halted.  A  cry  rang  through  the 
street,  "  Down  with  the  cueilhtte ! "  Then  ironical 
murmurs  were  heard  from  those  who  surrounded  the 
relics  of  the  saint :  "  Saint  Lievin  refuses  to  go  for- 
ward ;  he  wishes  to  go  through  the  house ;  a  passage 
must  be  made  for  him !"  Axes  and  other  instruments 
of  destruction  were  procured ;  and  in  a  short  time 


Ibid.,  p.  211. 


OBAV.  I.] 


THE  JOYOUS  ENTRY. 


453 


the  building,  which  was  of  no  great  size,  was  levelled 
with  the  ground.^** 

With  triumphant  shouts  the  populace  resumed 
their  march.  Instead  of  taking  their  way  to  the 
church,  they  proceeded  to  the  great  market-place 
(March^  de  Vendredi)  in  front  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville, 
the  usual  place  of  assemblage  for  the  guilds.  The 
body  of  the  saint  was  placed  in  the  centre  of  the 
square.  The  people  ranged  themselves  around  it  in 
the  order  with  which  the}'  were  familiar.  Then  the 
banners  —  the  same  in  color  and  form  as  those  which 
had  been  proscribed  —  were  unfurled,  and  the  fact 
was  thus  openly  proclaimed  that  Ghent  was  in  revolt. 

By  this  time  tidings  of  what  was  going  on  had 
reached  the  duke.  Advised  by  those  about  him,  he 
contented  himself  at  first  with  sending  to  inquire  the 
meaning  of  the  tumult  The  messenger  failing  to 
return,  Charles  mounted  his  horse  and  set  out,  accom- 
panied by  his  escort,  for  the  scene  of  action.  The 
nearer  they  approached  it,  the  louder  rose  the  swell 
of  voices  and  the  more  dense  became  the  throng  of 
those  who  were  hurrying  in  the  same  direction.  It 
was  not  without  a  feeling  of  alarm  that  the  nobles 
saw  themselves  gradually  hemmed  in,  and  their  own 
inconsiderable  number  surrounded  by  a  vast  con- 
course of  rude  and  determined  men.  But  still,  as 
they  paused,  the  people  called  to  them  to  go  forward 
without  fear;  and  the  crowd,  thickening  behind  them, 
cut  oflf  all  retreat"  Charles  traversed  the  square  with 


II 


'"  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  143. —    chard,  Doe.  Ined.,  torn.  i.  p.  212. 
Chastellain,  p.  405.  —  Rapport,  Ga-        "    "A  tous  lez  affuioient  gens 


■t  I 


f^l 

W^^mj 

B^^^HBflB 

^^Hh      '  Mi 

iK 

¥1 


Ki; 


h 


454 


GHENT. 


[book  n. 


a  knitted  brow,  and  his  eye  sent  forth  that  fiery 
gleam  which  was  wont  to  reveal  the  intensity  of  his 
kindled  wrath.  As  he  dismounted  in  front  of  the 
Hotel  de  Ville,  he  turned  upon  the  people  with  sharp 
exclamations  of  anger  and  disdain ;  and,  singling  out 
a  person  who  appeared  to  him  to  be  active  in  pro- 
moting disturbance,  he  exclaimed,  "  I  know  you  well," 
and  struck  him  with  his  baton.  But,  instead  of 
shrinking  timidly  from  the  blow  and  from  that  ireful 
and  imperious  look,  as  many  a  stout  and  valiant  sol- 
dier had  done,  the  freeman  of  Ghent  venti-d  a  loud 
imprecation,  and,  placing  himself  in  a  defiant  attitude 
full  before  his  sovereign,  in  a  hoarse  and  threatening 
tone  bade  him  repeat  the  blow.  The  challenge  was 
not  one  to  be  declined  by  the  person  to  whom  it  was 
addressed.  His  baton  was  again  raised  aloft,  when 
Louis  de  Bruges,  lord  of  Gruthuso,  a  noble  aian  thor- 
oughly acquainted  with  the  character  and  habits  of 
his  countrymen,  caught  the  uplifted  arm,  and  ex- 
claimed in  a  low  but  earnest  voice,  "  For  God's  love 
do  not  strike  that  man  again  !'"'-  Then,  drawing  the 
duke  into  the  interior  of  the  building,  Gruthuse  pro- 
ceeded to  rebuke  him  in  round  terms  for  his  rixtAi 
and  inconsiderate  conduct.  "  This  is  not  an  occasion, 
Monseigneur,"  he  said,  "  for  displaying  the  courage 
and  temerity  of  the  battle-field.     What  is  needed 

nrmcs  devers  le  grnnd  flot,  i\  cUvcrsea  tromblast  dc  peur,  rt  eust  volu  estre 

cohortes  ;    et    tant    eroiasoknt    et  i\ cent lieues Icing anicre.caroncques 

midtiplioient,  que  c'estoh  ung  hor-  si  horrible  frayeiu'  n'avoient  veue." 

reur,  .  .  .  Et  ainsy  passoient  oultre  Chastellain,  p.  407. 

combien  qu'en  teles  paroles  et  eii  "  Idem,  p.  408.  —  Gachard,  I>oc. 

tele  mutacion  n'y  avoit  cely  qui  ne  Iiied.,  torn.  L  p.  212. 


CHAP.  I.] 


Tim  JOYOUS  ENTRY. 


455 


now  in  prudence  and  a  nice  dinCretion,  if  you  would 
not  bring  ruin  on  your  head.  Wliat,  think  you, 
cares  this  senseless  r.abble  for  your  menji  'es  and  hard 
words  ?  I  tell  you,  all  our  lives  hang  uy  a  thread 
of  silk."" 

To  such  reasoning  as  this  no  man,  even  in  the 
excited  mood  of  passion,  could  be  deaf.  Counselled 
by  his  sagacious  vassal,  on  whose  ripe  experience  he 
set  a  due  estimation,  Charles  adopted  a  course  better 
suited  to  the  exigencies  of  the  occasion  than  that 
which  his  own  hasty  temper  had  dictated.  Ascend- 
ing to  the  balcony  in  front  of  the  house,  he  presented 
himself  in  fidl  view  of  the  assembled  people.  The 
tunuilt  was  at  once  hushed ;  for  it  was  characteristic 
of  the  citizens  of  Ghent  that,  with  all  their  readiness 
to  rebel  against  their  sovereign,  they  were  seldom 
unmindful  of  the  reverence  due  to  his  person.**  But, 
when  he  began  to  speak  to  them  in  the  Flemish 
tongue,  and  addressed  them  as  his  children,  the}'' 
suddenly  remembered  that  they  had  not  yet  greet- 
ed him  with  those  expressions  of  satisfaction  which 
should  have  attended  his  "joyous  entrance;"  and 
loud  cries  of "  Welcome !  welcome!"  resounded  from 
all  sides  of  the  square.  After  a  short  address  ex- 
pressive of  the  benignity  of  his  feelings  towards  his 
good  people  of  Ghent,  Charles  left  it  to  the  lord 
of  Gruthuse,  who  stood  beside  him,  and  who  pos- 
sessed a  greater  familiarity  with  the  language,  to 


"  Chastellain,  ubi  supra.  la  uersonne  de  leur  prince  ne  touche- 

"  "  Une  chose  ont  ilz  assez  hon-    re        ;  jamais."    Commines,  torn.  i. 
neste,  selon  leur  mauvaistie :  car  k    p.  144. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


■50   ^^™     IR^H 

■^  Uii    12.2 

muu 

IMilJ4 


6" 


V] 


*^  'V>     > 


^.^• 


** 


>* 


> 


;^^ 


>!^ 


FhotogFBphic 

Sdences 

Corporation 


23  WIST  MAIN  STMIT 

WIUTIII,N.Y.  MSSO 

(716)172-4503 


f. 


\tf 


453 


GHENT. 


[book  n. 


M,  i 


declare  his  intentions  more  at  length.  The  skilful 
orator,  avoiding  all  questions  in  regard  to  the  cause 
of  the  tumult,  contented  himself  with  rousing  the 
sympathies  of  his  audience  for  a  prince  who  had  just 
come  to  the  throne,  not  by  conquest  or  purchase,  but 
by  clear  and  natural  right,  and  whose  sole  desire  it 
was  to  learn  the  sentiments  of  his  subjects  and  to 
satisfy  their  just  demands.  His  harangue  was  greeted 
with  general  applause,  and  there  was  a  fair  prospect 
that  the  matter  would  be  adjusted  by  the  appoint- 
ment of  a  committee  of  conference,  in  which  case  the 
people  would  have  dispersed,  when,  suddenly,  one  of 
the  crowd  —  "a  tall,  rude  villain" — appeared  on  the 
balcony  beside  the  duke,  having  clambered  up  from 
the  outside  of  the  building,  and,  striking  on  the  win- 
dow-frame, in  order  to  call  attention,  with  an  iron 
gauntlet  which  covered  his  hand,  turned  towards  the 
citizens  and  thus  addressed  them :  "  My  brothers,  who 
stand  below  there,  and  who  have  come  to  lay  your 
complaints  and  grievances  before  your  prince,  you 
first  desire — do  you  not?  —  the  punishment  of  those 
who  hav^  misgoverned  your  town,  and  defrauded 
both  you  and  your  sovereign."  "Ah, yes !"  responded 
his  auditors,  as  if  suddenly  recalled  from  some  digres- 
sion foreign  to  the  purpose  to  the  real  object  that 
occupied  their  thoughts.  "  You  seek,"  he  continued, 
— "  do  you  not  ?  —  the  suppression  of  the  ciieiHoite." 
"  Yes !  yes !"  "And  you  wish  to  have  your  gates  re- 
opened, your  banners  restored,  and  all  your  customs 
reestablished  as  they  existed  in  former  days?"  "Yesl 
yes ! "  shouted  the  people,  their  enthusiasm  now  kin- 


m'' 


CHAP.  I.] 


THE  JOYOUS  ENTRY. 


457 


died  to  a  flame.  Turning  towards  the  duke,  who  stood 
as  if  thunder-struck  at  tliis  practical  exhibition-  of 
popular  freedom,  the  self-elected  deputy  remarked, 
"This,  in  brief,  Monseigneur,  is  what  the  folk  there 
below  have  assembled  to  request  of  you  and  what 
you  have  to  provide  for^  I  have  declared  it  m  their 
name ;  and,  as  you  hear,  they  avow  the  statement  as 
their  own."  ^* 

"  0  glorious  majesty  of  God ! "  exclaims  the  high- 
born chronicler  of  these  events,  "to  think  that  so 
intolerable  and  outrageous  a  viUany  should  be  com- 
mitted in  the  very  presence  of  a  prince !  —  that  a 
man  of  low  and  altogether  vile  condition  should  set 
himself  by  the  very  flank  of  his  lord,  and  there 
utter  such  language  in  contempt  of  his  sovereign 
right  and  dignity  as  it  would  have  fretted  the  heart 
of  the  poorest  noble  to  be  compelled  to  listen  to  and 
to  tolerate  !  And  yet,"  he  adds,  dejectedly,  "  this 
noble  prince  was  forced  to  endure  it  for  the  time, 
and  to  cover  with  a  smile  the  vexation  of  which  he 
was  ready  to  die."^** 

The  increasing  tumult  in  the  square  showed  plain!  v 
enough  the  hopelessness  of  any  further  attempt  on 


"  Chastellain,  p.  409. 

'8  "  O  glorieuse  majesty  de  Dieu, 
et  que  vecy  une  oultrageuse  et  into- 
Idrable  vilenie  commise  en  la  face 
d'ung  prince,  et  d'ung  tout  vil  bas 
homme,  que  de  soi  venir  mettre  et 
joindre  emprbs  lea  flancs  d'ung  tel 
prince  son  seigneur,  encore  et  profc- 
ter  paroles  contraires  h,  sa  haulteur 
par  contempnement  de  sa  seigneurie, 
VOL.  I.  68 


et  de  quoy  le  plus  povre  noble  homme 
du  monde,  par  la  maniere  du  faire 
eust  pu  avoir  le  cuer  crev^-  d'annuy 
et  de  despit  de  le  toUdrer  et  porter. 
Et  se  convint  toutes-foi  que  ce  noble 
prince  le  portast  et  tollerast  pour 
ung  mieulx  h  ceste  heure,  et  qu'il  le 
coulast  par  une  risde,  qui  en  devoit 
morir  de  dueil."  Chastellain,  ubi 
supra. 


i\-  H=i 

458 


GHENT. 


[book  II. 


liliilllM 


1 

■ 

i 

IllHI'^ 

\\ 

n 

iHWffl^'»lKifli ' 

li 

m 

. ...  ij 

^ k-       '■'    \    ^^ 

11      [■: 


the  part  of  Charles  and  his  noble  counsellor  to  evade 
the  difficulties  of  their  position.  For  some  moments 
they  eyed  each  other  with  looks  expressive  of  their 
embarrassment,  each  mutely  questioning  the  other 
as  to  the  course  to  be  pursued.  At  length  Gruthuse 
recovered  his  accustomed  self-possession.  Turning 
towards  the  person  whose  sudden  appearance  on  the 
scene  had  thus  interfered  with  his  well  contrived 
plans,  "  My  friend,"  said  he,  in  a  cool  tone  of  supe- 
riority, "  it  was  not  necessary  that  you  should  climb 
up  here,  to  the  place  reserved  for  the  prince  and  his 
nobles.  You  would  have  been  heard  very  well  from 
below,  and  Monseigneur  would  have  given  you  your 
answer.  You  are  a  strange  fellow,  methinks.  Come, 
descend !  descend !  Be  off  with  you,  you  and  your 
crew!  Monseigneur  can  settle  his  affairs  with  his 
people  without  you  for  tlieir  deputy."  Somewhat 
abashed  by  this  easy  assurance  ^n  the  great  person- 
ages whom  from  a  sudden  impulse  he  had  ventured 
to  confi^ont,  the  man  instantly  obeyed  the  command, 
and  slunk  away  amongst  the  crowd.  Charles  then 
addressed  some  words  to  the  citizens,  giving  them  a 
promise  that  their  grievances  would  be  taken  into 
consideration,  and,  descending  to  the  street,  mounted 
his  horse,  and,  accompanied  by  all  his  suite,  returned, 
without  molestation,  to  his  lodgings." 

All  that  night  the  people  remained  assembled  on 
the  spot  where  their  banners  had  been  displayed. 
The  duke,  in  like  manner,  ordered  his  followers  to 
keep  watch  and  ward,  while  he  passed  the  hours  in 

"  Idem,  p.  410. 


ii!i : 


CHAF.  I.] 


THE  JOYOUS  ENTRY. 


459 


consultation  with  his  principal  nobles.  That  he  would 
be  obliged  to  make  the  concessions  that  were  required 
of  him  was  the  inevitable  conclusion  of  these  delib- 
erations.    He  had  little  cause,  indeed,  to  fear  for  his 
own  safety ;  but  what  he  most  dreaded  was  that  his 
daughter  would  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  people  and 
be  held  as  a  hostage  until  their  demands  were  com- 
plied with.     The  treasure,  too,  which  he  had  brought 
with  him  from  Bruges  would  scarcely  be  secure  in  the 
midst  of  a  mutinous  population.     It  was  suggested 
that  some  way  might  be  devised  of  secretly  removing 
the  young  princess  and  the  treasure  to  a  place  of 
safety.     But  no  feasible  project  was  started.     The 
scanty  number  of  the  nobles  and  their  attendants  put 
forcible  resistance  oat  of  the  question.     Charles  felt 
that  he  had  placed  himself,  with  unsuspecting  confi- 
dence, in  a  situation  whence  there  was  no  loophole 
of  escape,  and*  where  courage  and  resolution  would 
prove  of  no  avail.     Early  in  the  morning  the  lord 
of  Gruthuse  made  his  appearance  before  the  people, 
and  gave  them  the  assurance  for  which  they  waited 
by  echoing  in  a  loud  tone  the  shout  with  which  they 
greeted  him:  "Down  with  the  cueiUoUe V     He  then 
announced  to  them  that  the  duke  acceded  to  all  their 
requests,  and  desired  that  a  few  of  their  number 
should  wait  on  him  and  receive  from  his  own  lips  the 
confirmation  of  his  envoy's  report.     When  this  had 
been  done  the  corpse  of  Saint  Li^vin  was  deposited 
in  the  church.     The  people  then  marched  to  the 
"  condemned  gates,"  which  they  broke  open,  leaving 
them  extended  wide.    In  the  course  of  the  day  they 


460 


GHENT. 


[book  II. 


t!  I 


MBl:  ! 


¥1. 


■  t. 

{  : 
m  ;  t 


m 


Ml 


also  demolished  a  house  which,  like  the  former,  had 
been  used  for  the  collection  of  the  odious  tax.  The 
news  of  these  proceedings  fixed  more  rigidly  on 
Charles's  brow  the  sullen  frown  with  which  he  had 
submitted  to  his  fate.  On  the  next  day  he  quitted 
Ghent.  The  magistrates  and  the  deputies  of  the 
people  waited  on  him  and  offered  their  excuses  in 
the  most  humble  terms  for  what  had  occurred.  They 
assured  him  of  their  own  innocence,  and  attributed 
the  outbreak  to  the  superiority  which  the  mere  rab- 
ble had  acquired  in  the  town  over  the  wealthy  and 
well-disposed  citizens.  They  besought  him,  however, 
at  an  early  day  to  confirm  in  writing  the  concessions 
which  he  had  made,  as  otherwise  fresh  riots  might  be 
apprehended.  The  duke  listened  to  this  address  in 
silence ;  and,  though  he  adhered  to  his  engagements 
and  signed  the  necessary  instruments,  the  triumph  of 
the  people  of  Ghent  was  chilled  by  secret  misgivings 
—  by  the  consciousness  that,  at  the  moment  of  his 
accession,  they  had  made  an  enemy  of  their  sove- 
reign.*^ 

It  was  natural  indeed  that  this  insult  should  sink 
deep  into  the  mind  of  a  prince  in  whom  the  spirit 
of  domination  rose  so  high  and  strong,  and  whose 
will  so  seldom  brooked  opposition  from  any  quarter. 
At  the  very  outset  of  his  career  Charles  looked  for- 
ward not  to  a  peaceful  reign,  in  which  the  internal 
administration  of  his  states  was  to  be  the  chief  object 


»«  Chastellain,  pp.  411,  412.— 
Qachard,  Doc.  Indd.,  torn.  i.  p.  213. 
—  Commines,  torn.  i.  pp.  143, 144. — 


Extrait  de  Wiellant,  Antiquitds  de 
Flandre  Lenglet,  torn.  ii.  p.  627. 


CHAP.  I.]         POSITIONS  OF  CHARLES  AND  LOUIS. 


461 


of  his  attention,  but  to  a  continual  struggle  with  for- 
eign powers  and  to  the  enlarj;  ement  of  his  possessions 
by  foreign  conquests.  His  present  dominions  he  re- 
garded only  as  the  basis  of  i  loftier  power  and  a 
wider  sway;  and  it  was  indispensable  that  from 
them  he  should  receive  a  constant  support  —  that  at 
home  his  supremacy  should  be  undisputed,  his  com- 
mands implicitly  obeyed.  He  feared,  and  with  good 
reason,  the  effects  of  that  example  which  had  just 
been  set  by  Ghent.  At  Malines,  Antwerp,  and  other 
places,  popular  commotions  followed  —  slight,  indeed, 
and  quickly  suppressed  and  punished,  but  sufficient 
to  indicate  the  passage  of  an  electric  current  such  as, 
in  the  same  atmosphere,  had  so  often  kindled  civil 
war.  The  Estates  of  Brabant,  having  been  con- 
vened at  Brussels,  debated  whether  they  should 
acknowledge  the  right  of  succession  in  the  son  of 
Philip  the  Good,  or  admit  a  claim  set  up  by  the 
count  of  Nevers  as  the  rightful  representative  of 
Philip's  predecessor.  The  question  was  speedily  de- 
cided in  Charles's  favor,  but  not  without  strong  oppo- 
sition on  the  part  of  the  burghers  of  the  province, 
who  saw  the  hazard  to  which  their  liberties  would 
be  exposed  in  his  course  towards  a  more  extended 
empire.  In  these  movements  a  hand  might  be  de- 
tected which  had  long  before  been  covertly  stretched 
out  to  thwart  the  purposes  of  the  Burgundian  prince, 
and  which  was  henceforth  to  be  ever  busy  in  strew- 
ing embarrassments  upon  his  path.  It  was  the  French 
monarch  who  had  set  Nevers  on  to  reassert  preten- 
sions he  had  already  formally  renounced;  and  the 


I'  i 
I? ' 

i>'''S  I 

k  1 


I 


'III 


ill 

■'I 


462 


POSITIONS  OF  CHARLES  AND  LOUIS.         [book  «. 


agents  of  Louis  were  even  now  employed  at  Liege 
in  exciting  to  a  new  insurrection  the  people  whom 
he  had  before  betrayed,  but  who  had  not  yet  sound- 
ed the  depths  of  his  perfidy  and  meanness. 

Yet  what  were  the  difficulties  with  which  Charles 
now  had  to  contend  compared  with  those  that  tasked 
the  energies  and  tried  the  temper  of  the  king?  What, 
for  example,  were  the  pretensions  of  Nevers  in  com- 
parison with  those  of  Charles  of  France,  who  still 
styled  himself  "duke  of  Normandy"  and  waited  in 
secure  shelter  till  his  allies  and  adherents  should  be 
prepared  to  support  his  rights?  That  negotiations 
with  this  -^bject  were  already  in  progress  was  no  se- 
cret to  .  .,  He  had  even  intercepted  messengers 
passing  ^oiween  the  courts  of  Brittany  and  Bur- 
gundy, and  had  dismissed  them  with  expressions  of 
his  high  satisfaction  with  the  friendly  feelings  sub- 
sisting among  his  great  vassals.  He  at  the  same 
time  continued  his  own  negotiations  with  his  brother, 
and  endeavored  to  convince  him  of  the  sincerity  of 
that  affection  with  which  monarchs  are  accustomed 
to  regard  those  who  stand  nearest  to  them  in  the 
order  of  succession.  But  these  efforts  were  fruit- 
less; and  equally  unsuccessful  was  a  mission  with 
which  the  duke  of  Calabria  had  been  intrusted  for 
secretly  abducting  the  person  of  the  prince."  The 
only  other  alternative  was  to  enter  Brittany  with  an 
army;  but  this  was  a  measure  which  Louis  did  not 
venture  to  adopt,  knowing  that  it  would  be  followed 


19 


Lenglet,  torn.  ii.  p.  699. 


CHAP.  I.]         POSITIONS  OF  CHARLES  AND  LOUIS. 


463 


by  an  immediate  declaration  of  war  from  Charles  of 
Burgundy. 

Again :  that  Louis  was  able  to  keep  alive  the  mu- 
tinous disposition  of  the  people  of  Liege  was,  after 
all,  but  a  petty  annoyance  to  his  rival ;  while  there 
floated  before  his  own  mind  the  continual  apprehen- 
sion that  England  would  be  drawn  into  an  alliance 
against  him,  and  that  contest  be  renewed  which  had  so 
often  shaken  the  French  monarchy  to  its  foundation. 
The  duke  of  Burgundy  was  himself  of  English  de- 
scent —  by  the  Lancastrian  line,  it  is  true ;  but  this 
had  not  prevented  him  from  offering  his  hand  to  the 
Princess  Margaret,  the  sister  of  Edward  the  Fourth, 
who  seemed  now  to  be  firmly  seated  on  the  throne. 
The  offer  was  accepted ;  and  in  the  spring  preceding 
Charles's  accession  he  had  sent  his  half-brother  An- 
tony to  London,  at  the  head  of  a  splendid  embassy, 
to  settle  the  preliminaries  of  the  marriage.  The  fame 
of  the  Great  Bastard  as  a  valiant  soldier  and  a  re- 
doubted jouster  gained  him  a  warm  reception  at  the 
court  of  Edward.  In  a  brilliant  tournament,  of  which 
minute  descriptions  both  in  French  and  English  have 
been  preserved,^  Antony  and  the  Lord  Scales,  the 
brother  of  the  queen,  and,  next  to  Edward  himself 
the  foremost  among  English  knights,  put  each  other's 
prowess  to  the  proof,  and  conceived  a  mutual  admi- 
ration and  esteem.  By  all  the  nobles  of  what  might 
be  called  the  queen's  faction  the  Burgundian  alliance 


'"  The  contemporary  English  ac-  It  claims  the  victory  for  the  English 
count  of  this  celebrated  tournament  knight,  as  Lamarche  does  for  the 
is  printed  in  the  Excerpta  Historica.    Burgundian. 


i    '• 


?  6 


f 


464 


POSniJNS  OF  CHARLES  AND  LOUIS.         [dook  ii. 


was  viewed  with  the  highest  favor;  and  the  king, 
indolent  as  a  politician,  but  animated  by  an  ardent 
sympathy  in  all  the  tastes  and  pursuits  of  chivalry, 
inclined  naturally  to  the  same  side. 

Louis,  however,  does  not  seem  to  have  been  deeply 
troubled  by  the  report  of  an  alliance  which  was  to  be 
founded  on  sympathy  of  tastes  and  cemented  by  the 
courtesies  of  chivalry.  He  imagined  that  the  spring 
on  which  depended  the  conduct  of  the  English  gov- 
ernment lay  elsewhere,  and  that  the  moment  had 
arrived  when  it  was  to  be  submitted  to  his  own  touch. 
He  knew  that  Warwick  stood  at  the  head  of  the 
English  nobility ;  that  he  exercised  a  vast  influence 
over  the  people ;  that  he  was  reputed  to  be  the  most 
skilful  soldier  and  the  most  astute  politician  in  the 
realm;  that  his  hand  was  supposed  to  have  placed 
Edward  upon  the  throne,  Jind  to  be  strong  enough  to 
unseat  him  if  the  pleasure-loving  prince  should  prove 
ungrateful.  Of  what  use  to  seek  an  alliance  either 
with  York  or  with  Lancaster?  Neither  house  had 
any  true  basis  of  its  own  in  the  affections  or  the  pre- 
judices of  the  nation.  Warwick,  who  to-day  upheld 
the  one,  might  to-morrow  overturn  it  and  reinstate 
the  other.  The  kin^  was  but  a  pageant;  with  the 
kinff-maker  resided  the  substantial  power.  We  have 
seen  the  eagerness  with  which,  in  1463,  Louis  had 
looked  forward  to  a  promised  interview  with  the 
great  English  earl.  In  that  year,  however,  his  hopes 
were  disappointed;  Warwick  did  not  visit  France." 

■'  It  is  stated  by  many  English    to  France,  in  1463  or  1464,  for  the 
historians  that  Warwick  vent  over    purpose  of  negotiating  a  marriage 


CHAP.  I.]         POSITIONS  OF  CHARLES  AND  LOUIS. 


465 


But  in  the  present  summer,  (1467,)  while  Philip  the 
Good  lay  on  his  death-bed,  while  the  Great  Bastard 
was  still  at  the  English  court,  —  at  a  moment,  there- 
fore, doubly  critical, —  the  earl  crossed  the  channel 
and  landed  on  the  shores  of  Normandy.  The  king, 
accompanied  by  the  queen  and  her  ladies,  awaited 
him  at  Rouen,  and  in  the  reception  which  he  gave 
him  was  profuse  in  demonstrations  of  cordiality  and 
joy.  A  solemn  procession  of  the  clergy,  headed 
by  the  prelates  of  the  province  with  pontifical  cross 
and  banner,  went  forth  to  meet  him,  and  escorted 
him  to  the  cathedral,  where  service  was  performed 
and  thanks  were  offered  up  for  his  safe  arrival.**  The 
nobles  of  liis  suite  were  sumptuously  lodged;  and 
the  merchants  of  the  town  had  orders  to  supply  them, 
at  the  king's  expense,  with  whatever  articles  might 
please  their  taste ;  so  that  these  English,  says  the 
chronicler,  who  had  come  over  in  the  meanest  attire, 


between  Edward  and  the  Princess 
Bonne  of  Savoy,  a  sister  of  the 
French  queen  ;  that,  on  his  return, 
he  found  the  king  already  cngafjed. 
or  privately  wedded,  to  Elizabeth 
Woodville ;  and  that  his  rescntmuiit 
on  this  account  was  the  oiiifinul 
source  of  his  subsequent  breach  with 
tlie  Yorkist  sovereign.  Lingard  and 
Sharon  Turner  have  discarded  this 
story  as  improbable  and  as  rest- 
ing on  no  contemporaneous  author- 
ity. In  addition  to  the  arguments 
adduced  by  them,  and  the  silence  of 
French  writers  like  Chastelhiiu  and 
De  Troycs,  conclusive  evidence  may 
be  found  in  the  language  of  a  let- 
ter, dated  November  17,  1464,  and 
VOL.  I.  59 


written  by  Sir  Robert  Neville,  an 
agent  and  kinsman  of  Warwick : 
"  Mon  beau  cousin  de  Warvy  n'est 
vcnu  par  de  ch  ainsi  comme  il  avoit 
promis."  (Commines,  ed.  Dupont, 
torn,  iii.,  Preuves,  p.  212.)  'ITie 
writer  mentions  the  regret  expressed 
at  tlie  ccuirt  of  Burgundy  that  War- 
wick had  failed  to  keep  the  appoint- 
ment. Nevertheless  the  common 
account  —  as  not  unfrequently  turns 
out  to  have  been  the  case  —  rested 
on  a  foundation  of  fact,  while  the 
conclusions  which  have  been  drawn 
from  the  detection  of  its  inaccuracy 
are  essentially  unsound.  See  post, 
vol.  ii..  Book  III.,  ch.  1,  note  14. 
«*  DeTroycs,Lenglet,  torn.  ii.  p.63. 


466 


POSITIONS   OF  CHAULRS   AND   LOUIS.         (book  ii. 


m 


iliip 


tli 


i 


were  seen  dressed,  at  their  departure,  in  the  costliest 
satins,  velvets,  and  other  rich  stulTH.'^''  Warwick  was 
accommodated  with  apartments  in  a  convent  adjoin- 
ing the  royal  residence ;  hut,  as  if  the  facilities  thus 
aflorded  for  communication  were  not  sufficient,  Louis 
ordered  a  passage  to  be  opened  in  the  partition  wall 
between  the  buildings. 

Of  what  passed  in  their  daily  and  nightly  confer- 
ences we  have  no  trustworthy  account.  But  it  is 
certain  that  the  two  parties  arrived  at  a  good  un- 
derstanding in  regard  to  the  objects  which  they 
severally  had  in  view ;  and  it  is  not  difficult  to 
conjectiu-e  what  these  objects  were.  Warwick  had 
reached  that  point  which  presents  itself  in  every 
great  career,  where  strenuous  efforts,  crowned  with 
success,  have  raised  a  man  to  the  summit  of  his  de- 
sires, but  where  he  discovers  that  no  repose,  no  secure 
enjoyment,  is  possible  for  him ;  that  the  foundations 
of  his  greatness  are  unstable ;  that  he  has  himself 
heaped  together  materials  that  may  be  used  for  his 
own  destruction;  and  that  a  thousand  internal  liiii* 
derances  have  sprung  into  activity  at  the  moment 
when  all  outward  obstacles  have  been  vanquished 
and  put  down.  With  irresistible  ardor  and  with  im- 
placable hostility  he  had  overthrown,  pursued,  and 
all  but  exterminated  tLs  enemies  of  the  house  of 
York.     He  had  laid  the  prince  whose  cause  he  had 


*•''  "  Unde  omnes  ferme  comitis  tiosis  lands  pannis  (quos  Rothoma- 

ejusdem  stipatores,  qui  cum  lanei^  gum,  pro  cseteris  rcgni  urbfbus,  mit- 

et  communibus  venerant  vestimeiitis  tere  solet,)  in  Angliam  sunt  rever- 

amicti,  damaeceno  et  ^'<^luto,  vel  pre-  sL"    Basin,  torn.  ii.  p.  179. 


CHAf.  I.]         POSITIONS  OF  CHARLES  AND  LOUIS. 


467 


espoused  under  obligations  too  great  to  be  repaid. 
He  had  imagined  that,  under  a  sovereign  of  Jj/lward's 
temperament,  his  dream  of  power  would  be  amply 
realize.'  and  he  should  be  able  to  exercise  an  undis- 
puted control  over  the  affairs  of  the  kingdom.  Doubtr 
less  his  line  of  policy  would,  in  many  respects,  have 
been  advantageous  to  the  interests  not  only  of  his 
party,  but  of  his  country.  At  home  he  would  have 
firmly  established  the  power  of  the  reigning  house, 
and  extinguished  the  last  embers  of  a  civil  war  which 
had  long  distracted  the  land.  By  a  solid  peace  with 
Franco,  and  a  free  acknowledgment  of  the  rights  of 
its  lawful  monarch,  he  would  have  effaced  the  recol- 
lections of  much  glory,  indeed,  but  also  of  much 
shame ;  he  would  have  closed  a  breach  which  had 
originated  in  a  state  of  things  now  happily  ex- 
tinct; and  he  would  have  stifled  illusive  dreams  of 
future  conquests  which  dazzled  the  national  mind 
and  prevented  it  from  recognizing  the  changes  that 
had  taken  place.  lie  would,  also,  by  securing  the 
confidence  of  the  French  king,  have  deprived  the 
exiled  adherents  of  Lancaster  of  the  protection  which 
they  received  in  his  dominions,  and  of  the  hopes  of 
assistance  which,  from  policy,  he  still  allowed  them 
to  indulge.  But  no  sooner  had  Warwick  achieved 
those  victories  that  might  have  been  turned  to  such 
good  account  than  he  lost  that  ascendancy  over 
Edward's  mind  which  was  the  mainspring  of  all  his 
plans.  Edward's  was  one  of  those  characters  that 
require  for  the  develppment  or  display  of  their  higher 
qualities  the  pressure  of  constant  opposition,  of  great 


468 


POSITIONS  OF  CHARLES  AND  LOUIS.        [book  n. 


ill    >■ 


emergencies,  of  desperate  circumstances.  In  ordinary 
situations  he  displayed  neither  talent  nor  resolution ; 
he  sank  into  sloth  and  self-indulgence,  and  willingly 
surrendered  himself  to  the  guidance  of  inferior  minds 
which  urged  him  to  no  exertion  and  demanded  of  him 
no  sacrifice.  By  his  unsuccessful  oppasition  to  the 
king's  marriage  with  Elizabeth  Woodville,  Warwick 
not  only  stimulated  into  activity  the  aversion  with 
which  Edward  secretly  regarded  him,  but  he  also  gave 
occasi3n  for  the  formation  of  a  strong  party  in  the 
court  which  aimed  openly  to  accomplish  his  downfall. 
He  was  too  powerful  to  be  at  once  discarded ;  but  he 
saw  the  necessity  of  seeking  new  elements  of  support ; 
and  that  alliance  with  the  French  monarch  which  he 
had  formerly  courted  in  the  interests  of  his  sovereign 
and  his  country  he  now  regarded  as  the  anchor  by 
which  his  own  fortunes  were  to  be  saved  from  ship- 
wreck. 

Louis,  on  his  part,  had  two  contingencies  in  view. 
If  Warwick  were  able  to  maintain  his  ground  against 
his  enemies,  the  existing  truce  between  the  two  coun- 
tries would  be  renewed,  and  the  plotted  coalition 
between  Edward  and  the  dukes  of  Burgundy  and 
Brittany  would  fall  to  the  ground.  But  if  Warwick 
should  be  disgraced,  what  followed?  He  then  be- 
came the  lever  by  which  the  present  government, 
established  by  himself,  might  be  overturned,  or  those 
intestine  divisions  in  England  be  prolonged  the  con- 
tinuance of  which  was  the  best  security  for  France 
against  the  deadliest  of  all  her  ^erils.^ 


,24 


M 


Comnunes  makes  a  remark  to  the  same  efifect;  but  more  explicit 


CBAP.  I.]         POSITIONS  OF  CHAHLES  AND  LOUIS. 


439 


On  the  18th  of  June  the  two  confederates  sepji- 
rated.  Louis  returned  to  his  capital,  where  he  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  the  'new  duke  of  Burgundy 
acquainting  him  with  Philip's  death.  Warwick,  on 
his  return  to  England,  was  received  by  his  sovereign 
with  a  burst  of  indignation  and  reproach.  His  mis- 
sion, undertaken  with  the  trivial  pretext  of  complain- 
ing of  some  violations  of  the  truce,  was  disavowed  ; 
and  the  French  envoys  whom  he  had  brought  with 
him  were  with  difficulty  admitted  to  a  single  audi- 
ence. In  fact,  the  earl,  in  the  step  he  had  just  taken, 
had  committed  himself  more  deeply  than  he  had 
anticipated.  He  might  not  have  meditated  treason ; 
he  might  not  have  broached  his  grievances  in  the  ear 
of  a  foreign  monarch,  or  accepted  his  suggestions  as 
to  the  means  of  obtaining  redress ;  but  the  world  was 
not  slow  to  perceive  the  real  motive  with  which,  at 
such  a  moment,  he  had  visited  the  French  king,  and 
the  consequences,  however  remote,  to  which  their 
interview  pointed.  It  afforded  a  pretext  for  depriving 
Warwick  of  his  ascendancy  in  the  government,  while 
it  undermined  his  popularity  and  thus  weakened  his 
chances  of  revenge.  He  had  sought  the  friend.«hip 
of  a  prince  who  was  looked  upon  by  the  nobles  of 
every  land  as  an  enemy  to  their  order  and  to  the 
consecrated  ideas  of  chivalry ;  and  he  had  desired  to 
pledge  the  nation  to  an  alliance  which,  preserving 
the  recollections  and  traditions  of  glorious  conquests. 


confirmation  of  the  view  taken  in  the    himself  several  years  later,  which 
text  in  regard  to  the  policy  of  Louis    we  shall  have  occasion  to  cite, 
will  be  found  in  a  letter  written  by 


V  ■ 


470 


POSITIONS  OF  CHARLES  AND  LOUIS.         [booh  ir. 


it  still  regarded  with  abhorrence.  The  duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, on  the  other  hand, —  the  mirror  of  chivalry, 
the  founder  of  the  Toisond'Or,  tho  defender  of  feudal 
rights,  —  was  justly  entitled  to  the  sympathies  of  the 
English  lords;  while  the  extensive  commerce  carried 
on  between  England  and  the  Netherlands  had  formed 
the  ground  of  peaceful  and  intimate  relations  for 
many  centuries. 

Thus  the  party  divisions  in  France  and  in  England, 
long  disconnected,  were  again  interwoven  with  each 
other.  The  time,  however,  had  not  yet  arrived  for 
tho  development  of  these  intrigues.  Warwick,  by  the 
course  he  had  taken,  had  lost  that  commanding  influ- 
ence with  the  masses  of  the  Yorkist  faction  which  he 
had  acquired  by  his  skill  and  courage  in  leading  them 
to  victory.  To  regain  his  former  power  he  must  begin 
his  career  anew ;  he  musf  bury  the  past  and  induce 
the  like  oblivion  in  others ;  he  must  seek  associates 
among  those  from  whom  he  was  separated  by  r*  sea 
of  blood.  Warwick  and  Lancaster  —  how  revolting- 
such  a  combination  !  The  arch-traitor  —  who  had 
thrown  the  realm  into  confusion,  who  had  heaped 
insults  en  the  sacred  person  of  majesty  itself —  swear- 
ing fe.alty  to  Henry,  giving  counsel  to  Margaret,  ex- 
changing vows  of  friendship  with  the  Cliffords  and 
the  Somersets,  with  the  exiled  representatives  of 
families  whose  best  blood  he  had  shed  on  the  battle- 
field and  on  the  scaffold,  and  with  whom  his  name 
was  a  word  of  infamy  and  horror  —  such  a  union  no 
head  but  that  of  Louis  could  have  planned,  no  hand 
but  his  have  woven. 


CHAP.  I.]  POSITIONS  OF  CHARLES  AND  LOUIS. 


471 


That  even  a  foreign  prince,  connected  by  a  remote 
line  of  descent  with  the  house  of  Lancaster,  should 
be  affianced  to  a  daughter  of  York,  —  that  a  single 
drop  from  one  of  these  streams  should  mingle  with 
the  current  of  the  other,  —  was  a  thing  to  excite 
wonder,  if  not  abhorrence.^  A  strife  so  deadly,  hand- 
ed down  from  one  generation  to  another,  seemed  to 
spring  from  a  rabid  fury  incapable  of  being  cured 
save  by  the  extinction  of  one  or  other  of  the  hostile 
races.  Charles  himself  had  felt  no  slight  repugnance 
to  the  match  proposed  for  him.'"  But  this  sentiment 
was  overcome  by  an  aversion  which  in  his  breast 
was  stronger  and  more  deeply  rooted  —  one  which 
had  become  the  dominant  motive  of  his  actions,  lead- 
ing him  to  shape  and  regulate  his  policy  with  the 
sole  aim  of  thwarting  the  policy  of  the  French  king. 
This  hostility  to  lK)uis  had  now,  indeed,  begun  to 
assume  its  full  proportions.  It  no  longer  wore  the 
appearance  of  mere  private  discontent  or  internal 
disaffection.  It  was  the  steady  resistance  of  a  rival 
power,  independent  in  its  policy,  hostile  in  its  ambi- 


"  The  strength  of  this  feeling  at 
the  Burgundian  court  reveals  itself 
in  the  labored  attempts  of  Chastcl- 
lain  —  who  evidently  shared  in  it  — 
to  justify  the  duke's  abandonment 
of  the  Lancastrian  party  and  his  al- 
liance with  the  house  of  York.  He 
returns  to  the  subject  again  and  again, 
laying  the  blame  on  Louis,  whose  in- 
sidious policy  had  driven  the  Bur- 
gundian sovereign  into  this  repulsive 
connection. 

**  "  S'il  y  eust  eu  en  Angleterre 


autre  mariage  de  sorte  h  ly,  jamais 
ne  se  fust  alie  au  roy  Edouard ;  car 
avoit  estc  tout  parfaitement  son  con- 
traire  en  faveur  du  sang  de  Lancas- 
tre,  dont  ii  estoit.  .  .  .  Accepta  le 
mariage,  et  promist  d'aller  avant, 
contrer  cuer  toutesfois,  comme  ly- 
mesmes  le  confessa  h.  tel  qui  le  me 
revela  depuis ;  mcs  ce  fit-il,  par  cor- 
rage  d'amer  mieux  fouler  et  grever 
autrui,  qu'estre  greve  ne  fould." 
Chastellaiu,  p.  425.  —  And  see  Com- 
miues,  torn.  i.  p.  230.  ^ 


w'  t 


472 


POSITIONS  OF  CHARLES  AND  LOUIS.         [book  ii. 


Is'  ■  i 


:   1 


i       i.Mkm 


tion.  During  the  last  quarter  of  a  century  the 
French  monarchy,  loosened  from  the  grasp  of  the  for- 
eigner, had  been  rapidly  recruiting  its  energies,  and 
gradually  acquiring  for  itself  a  more  secure  position 
and  a  more  solid  basis.  During  the  same  period  a 
new  monarchy  had  been  growing  up,  partly  within 
and  partly  without  the  boundaries  of  France,  ac- 
knowledging a  partial  subjection  to  the  French  crown, 
but  maintaining,  in  truth,  a  separate  existence,  strong 
enough  to  be  dangerous  as  a  neighbor  and  still  more 
dangerous  as  an  inmate.  Under  Charles  the  Seventh 
and  Philip  the  Good  the  development  of  these  two 
powers  had  proceeded  without  interruption,  but  with- 
out collision.  Neither  of  these  princes  had  neglected 
any  opportunity  of  extending  and  consolidating  his 
dominions  or  aggrandizing  his  authority.  But  in  both 
ambition  was  tempered  by  other  characteristics  —  in 
Charles  by  a  natural  moderation  of  character  not 
incompatible  with  a  far-sighted  intellect;  in  Pnilip 
by  ti  more  limited  range  of  vision,  and  by  the  self- 
complacency  of  one  who  had  never  been  compelled 
to  wrestle  with  fortune.  Both,  also,  were  influenced 
by  feelings  and  recollections  which  led  them  to  treat 
with  caution  such  subjects  of  controversy  as  arose 
out  of  their  mutual  relations.  Charles  had  learned 
from  early  experience  to  believe  that  his  interest  lay 
in  maintaining  not  only  peace  but  friendship  with 
the  house  of  Burgundy.  Philip,  forced  at  the  begin- 
ning of  his  career  to  ally  himself  with  the  enemies 
of  the  French  crown,  cherished  nevertheless  the  tra- 
ditional glories  of  the  house  of  Valois,  and  boasted 


:Wli 


CHAP.  I.]         POSITIONS  OF  CHARLES  AND  LOUIS. 


473 


that  he  was  a  "  son  of  France."  But  the  successors 
of  these  princes  were  impelled  by  a  different  spirit. 
Lor  is  of  France  and  Charles  of  Burgundy  were  alike 
absorbed  by  ambition,  alike  restless  and  daring,  alike 
eager  to  mount  from  the  level  on  which  they  stood 
and  to  push  to  its  final  consequences  the  policy  which 
each  had  adopted  from  instinct  rather  than  from  rea- 
son. So  far  they  resembled  each  other  —  in  all  other 
respects  how  different!  And  the  ambition  of  each 
found  a  constant  stimulus  in  this  contrast  of  charac- 
ter or  in  the  mutual  antipathy  engendered  by  it.'"' 
Their  hostility  was  a  natural  but  not  inv;vitable  result 
of  their  relative  positions.  It  was  sharpened  and  per- 
petuated by  the  opposition  of  their  natures  —  by  the 
pride  and  violence  of  the  one,  the  craft  and  duplicity 
of  the  other,  breeding  continual  suspicion  and  jeal- 
ousy, inciting  to  continual  aggressions,  and  baffling 
all  attempts  at  reconcilement  and  peace.  "The 
king,"  remarks  Chastellain, "  knew  how  to  recede  in 
order  to  gather  himself  up  for  a  longer  spring ;  he 
knew  how  to  grant  and  to  yield  in  order  to  recover 
double ;  he  knew  how  to  suffer  and  endure  till  time 
and  opportunity  brought  him"  his  revenge.  And  the 
duke  was  not  less  to  be  feared  for  his  great  courage 
and  resolve,  his  indifference  to  danger,  his  contempt 
for  menaces,  the  diligence  with  which  he  pursued'  his 
ahns,  the  confidence  with  which  he  looked  forward  to 
their  attainment." 


"  "  Entre  ces  deux  princes  de  tout 

temps  y  avoit  rancune.  .  .  .  Avoient 

conditions  et  meurs  incompatibles, 

et  volontds  toutes  discordantes  ;  et 

VOL.  I.  60 


plus  alloient  avant  le^  jours,  et  plus 
enehcoient  en  grans  difFerens  ensem- 
ble et  en  desespcrables  aigreurs." 
Chastellain,  p.  496. 


CHAPTER    II. 


BENEWED   WAR  WITH   LTE6E.  —  MEDIATION   OP  SAINT-POL. 
BATTLE    OF   BBUSTEN.  —  SUBUENDER   OF   LIe'uE. 


1467. 


M 


Li^GE  was  still  in  a  condition  of  frantic,  hopeless 
anarchy.  An  incurable  malady  pre^'ed  upon  this 
little  state  —  a  wasting  fever,  accompanied  with  de- 
lirious ravings,  that  consumed  its  vital  energies.^  The 
bishop  still  remained  at  Huy,  refusing  to  return  to 
the  capital,  where  a  violent  and  blood-stained  faction, 
without  pretending  to  govern,  played  a  desperate 
game,  and  maintained  itself  by  murders  and  proscrip* 
tions.  The  country  was  ravaged  by  outlaws,  who 
burst  at  times  into  the  neighboring  territory  of  Na- 
mur  or  Brabant,  keeping  the  whole  border  in  a  per- 
petual alarm.  The  treaty  remained  unexecuted :  the 
enormous  fine  imposed  by  its  stipulations  was  still 
unpaid ;   and  the  hour  must  soon  arrive  when  the 

'  Bursts  of  senseless  fury  alter-  are  prolific  of  miracles.  See  the 
nate  with  weak  moaningR  and  the  curious  particulars  in  Adrianus  de 
fantasies  of  superstition.  The  skies  Veteri-Bosco  and  the  chronicles  pub- 
gleam  with  prodigies ;  the  shrines    lished  by  De  Ram. 

(474i 


OBAP.  n.] 


RENEWED  WAR  WITH  UtQE. 


475 


inexorable  creditor  would  again  present  himself,  with 
a  claim  made  heavier  by  the  long  delay.  The  sense 
of  this  impending  ruin  —  the  intense  fear  and  hate 
with  which  Liege,  glowing  with  the  spirit  of  national 
life,  drunk  with  freedom,  regarded  the  stern,  cold,  ex- 
acting power  hy  whose  waxing  greatness  it  was  men- 
aced and  foredoomed  —  had  been  the  original  cause 
of  its  distemper,  and  furnished  the  daily  visions  of  its 
distraught  imagination.  And  on  the  other  side  stood 
an  insidious  tempter  urging  its  frenzy,  feeding  it  with 
stimulants,  with  delusive  promises  of  aid,  of  a  speedy 
release  from  the  dread  spectre  that  oppressed  it. 

Humbercourt,  who  had  been  left  at  Liege  to  repre- 
sent the  duke,  to  remind  the  people  that  they  were 
now  virtually  subjects  of  tl  ■^  house  of  Burgundy,  to 
warn  them  of  the  c  3rtain  consequences  of  any  infrac- 
d?n  of  the  treaty,  soon  found  himself  powerless  to 
arrest  the  mischief,  and  stood  aloof  from  the  gang  of 
desperadoes  that  managed  the  popular  assemblies,  a 
silent  spectator  of  the  drownings,  beheadings,  and  con- 
fiscations by  which  the  ecclesiastics  and  the  wealthier 
citizens  were  kept  in  terror  and  submission.  Yet  he 
courted  popularity  with  the  masses,  enrolled  himself 
as  a  membe  •  of  one  of  the  guilds,  and  received  the 
rights  of  ricizenship.  At  the  same  time  he  reported 
to  his  sovereign  all  that  occurred,  and  kept  a  vigilant 
watch  on  the  agents  of  the  French  king  that  were 
ever  passing  to  and  fro,  and  on  the  movements  of 
the  royal  troops  under  Dammartin  stationed  near  the 
frontiers.  When  he  perceived  that  a  new  crisis  was 
approaching  he  returned  to  Brussels,  and  acquainted 


lit 

in*- 


476 


RENEWED  WAR  WITH  LlfiOB. 


[book   II. 


^t!  , 


Charles  that  an  attack  was  about  to  be  made  on  ITuy, 
the  people  having  resolved  to  seize  their  prince  and 
carry  him  to  the  capital,  to  restore  at  least  the  form 
of  government,  perhaps  to  serve  as  a  hostage  for  the 
forbearance  of  his  kinsman  and  ally.  A  small  force, 
under  the  Sire  de  Bossut,  was  despatched  in  haste  to 
defend  the  town  until  more  adequate  assistance  could 
be  sent.  The  enemy  arrived  —  a  confused  multitude, 
burghers,  Companions  of  the  Green  Tent,  all  the  wan- 
dering bands  that  scoured  the  land  and  were  attracted 
by  the  hope  of  plunder,  carrying  their  various  ban- 
ners, and  armed  with  crossbows,  culverins,  and  pikes. 
They  were  unprovided  with  cannon  for  battering  the 
walls;  but  parties  of  picked  men,  acquainted  with 
all  the  defiles  and  winding  paths  of  the  rocky  hills 
that  overlooked  the  place,  patrolled  its  circuit  until 
they  found  an  unguarded  "spot,  and  obtained  posses- 
sion of  the  outer  defences.  Louis  of  Bourbon  turned 
pale  with  terror  at  the  prospect  of  at  last  meeting  his 
subjects  face  to  face.  He  besought  Bossut,  instead  of 
attempting  a  defence,  to  conduct  him  from  the  place 
while  there  was  yet  time  for  escape,  The  Burgun- 
dian  officer,  supposing  that  the  main  object  of  his 
mission  was  to  protect  the  person  of  the  bishop,  did 
not  think  himself  at  liberty  to  refuse  this  request. 
But,  on  their  arrival  at  Brussels,  he  met  with  a  recep- 
tion from  his  sovereign  which  undeceived  him  on  this 
point.  "  Your  duty,"  said  the  duke,  "  was  to  regard 
my  honor,  not  to  listen  to  the  prayers  of  a  cowardxy 
priest."  ^    As  for  the  bishop,  Charles  treated  him  with 

•  Chastellain,  p.  434. 


CUAP.  II.] 


RENEWED  WAR  Wmi  LIEGE. 


477 


unconcealed  disdain.  The  mitre  and  the  stole  were 
but  a  poor  excuse  for  pusillanimity  in  the  successor 
of  Henry  of  Gueldres  and  many  another  brave  sol- 
dier, who  had  ruled  the  bishopric  of  Li{?ge  in  former 
times,  and  whose  hands  had  been  more  familiar  with 
the  knightly  lance  than  with  the  pastoral  staff.  But  it 
was  the  hone;  not  of  Louis  of  Bourbon,  but  of 
Charles  of  Burgundy,  that  was  now  at  stake ;  and 
preparations  were  made  for  renewing  the  war  in  a 
manner  that  should  show  the  rebels  with  whom  they 
had  to  deal.  The  summons  to  the  field  was  sent 
abroad  by  heralds,  who  bore  in  one  hand  a  flaming 
torch,  in  the  other  a  naked  sword  —  tokens  of  the 
merciless  spirit  in  which  the  contest  was  to  be 
waged.' 

Was  there  any  reason  to  suppose  that  the  king  of 
France  would  step  forward,  at  this  juncture,  to  fulfil, 
at  last,  the  pledges  so  often  broken  and  so  often  re- 
newed ?  He  had  a  large  force  still  on  foot  in  Nor- 
mandy and  Champagne.  Dammartin,  with  several 
hundred  lances,  was  posted  at  Mezi^res,  in  the  near 
neighborhood  of  Li^ge,  with  th«^  ostensible  purpose 
of  protecting  the  frontiers  against  the  predatory 
bands  that  infested  all  the  adjacent  territory,  to  what- 
ever party  it  belonged.  His  secret  instructions,  no 
doubt,  Avere  of  a  different*  purport,  but  obscure  in 
tenor  and  expression.  The  chief  object  of  his  pres- 
ence at  this  point,  as  he  well  understood,  must  be  to 


'  "  Tenoient  en  une  main  une  es-    de  sang."  De  Troyes,  Lenglet,  torn, 
pde  toute  nuii,  et  en  I'autre  une  torche    ii.  p.  66. 


alumde,  qui  signifoit  guerre  de  feu  et 


478 


RENEWED  WAR  WITII  Ll£OE." 


fnooK  II. 


give  coiirngo  to  '  ^^jople  of  Li<^ge,  and  to  oveniwo 
the  aj^j^rosHor.  ^uc  was  ho,  at  the  doeiHive  moint'iit, 
to  remain  a  mere  spectator,  or  to  join  them  in  rewiHt- 
ing  tlie  attack?  Thin  was  more  than  he  himself 
coiikl  tell;  and  it  was  in  vain  that  he  applied  to 
Ijoui.s  for  more  definite  orders.*  The  king,  however, 
was  not  idle.  He  despatched  more  than  one  embassy 
to  Charles  requesting  him  to  suspend  his  prepanir 
tions.  A  papal  legate  resident  in  France  was  per- 
suaded to  undertake  a  similar  mission.  It  was  scarcely 
to  be  expected  that  these  appeals  would  have  any 
effect  in  shaking  the  determination  of  the  duke.  Nev- 
ertheless, in  nuiking  them,  the  king  was  perfectly 
sincere.  lie  had  the  interests  of  his  allies  too  deeply 
at  heart  to  abandon  their  cause  without  endeavorinj; 
to  obtain  a  substantial  equivalent  in  return.  With 
this  object  in  view  he  intrusted  the  matter  to  the 
negotiation  of  the  Constable  Saint-Pol. 

Louis  of  Luxembourg,  count  of  Saint-Pol,  was  the 
representative  of  a  family  which  had  given  a  line  of 
kings  to  Bohemia  ami  of  emperors  to  Germany.  His 
vast  estates  lay  chiefly  in  Picardy,  the  border  land 
of  France  and  Belgium,  and,  in  fact,  a  debatable  land, 
having  afforded  a  subject  of  contention  to  the  sove* 
reigns  of  these  two  countries,  and  having  already 
thrice  passed  from  the  possession  of  the  one  into  that 
of  the  other.     On  the  last  occasion  Saint-Pol  himself 


*  "  Envoyez-moy  plus  ample  puis-  en  toutes  autres  choses."    Lcttre  de 

sance  que  n'avez  fnit  dernicrement,  Dnmmartin  au  Roy,  Leuglet,  torn.  iL 

et  me  mandez  comme  je  m'y  gou-  p.  632. 
verneray,  et  je  le  feray,  et  en  cela  et 


CHAP,  n.] 


MEDIATION  OP  SAINT-POL. 


479 


luul  1)0011  mainly  inHtrumental  in  ofibcting  the  trans- 
fer. By  hin  influence  with  the  nobles  of  the  province, 
among  whom  he  was  the  first  both  in  rank  and  wealth, 
he  had  secured  their  defection  from  the  royal  cause 
and  their  adherence  to  that  of  the  confederates. 

From  childhood  he  had  been  trained  to  war  and 
familiarized  with  its  most  cruel  and  ^'evolting  fea- 
tures.' Haughty,  stern,  ambitious,  luxurious  in  his 
habits,  famed  for  valor  and  prowess,  and  well  skilled 
in  the  military  tactics  of  the  age,  he  might  have 
seemed,  at  first  sight,  the  very  type  of  the  feudal 
warrior.  But,  whether  from  the  latent  instincts  of 
his  nature  or  the  necessities  of  his  situation,  the  part 
he  played  in  later  life  was  one  that  demanded  a  sup- 
ple disposition,  consummate  addre.  s,and  a  mind  thor- 
oughly versed  in  all  the  stratagems  of  policy. 

His  personal  relations  with  the  two  great  rivals 
between  whom  he  stood  were  no  less  ambiguous  than 
his  position  and  his  character.  A  vassal  of  the  house 
of  Burgundy,  he  had  aspired  to  power  and  distinction 
at  the  court  of  Philip  the  Good.  But  his  pretensions, 
foimded  on  lofty  birth  and  hereditary  Avealth,  were 
too  openly  displayed  to  suit  the  taste  of  Philip,  who 
was  ever  more  ready  to  remind  him  of  the  protection 


"  It  is  related  of  him  that,  when 
a  boy,  he  was  copjpellcd  by  his  uncle 
and  guardian,  a  noted  partisan  chief- 
tain, to  hew  off  the  heads  of  a  batch 
of  prisoners,  as  they  knelt  in  the 
courtyard  of  his  castle  with  their 
hands  tied  behind  their  backs.  Dun- 
can of  Knockdunder,  as  the  reader 
may  remember,  was  desirous  to  give 


a  similar  lesson  to  young  David 
Butler.  "  Tavie,  my  dear,  you  hae 
smelled  pouther  for  the  first  time 
this  day  —  take  my  sword  and  hack 
off  Donacha's  head,  whilk  will  be 
coot  practice  for  you  against  the 
time  you  may  wish  to  do  the  same 
kindness  to  a  living  shentlemon." 
Heart  of  Midlothian. 


i    i 


480 


MEDIA'nON  OF  8AINT-rOL. 


[book  u. 


for  which  ho  was  iiidobtod  lo  his  soveroign  than  to 
promote  lii.s  jiiiibitious  viowH.  On  the  other  liand,  the 
Croy.M,  Avhoin  Saint-Pol,  an  we  have  seen,  regarded 
with  (li.sdiiin,  nionopoHzed  the  ducal  favor  and  were 
advan(!ed  to  the  higliewt  oflices  in  the  state.  He 
therefore  attaclied  hinuself  to  tlie  count  of  Charohiiw, 
tlien  brooding  over  Hiniilar  repulses,  became  his  chosen 
counsellor  and  cor. fidant,  joined  him  in  overthrowing 
the  Croys,  assisted  him  in  raising  forces  to  attack  the 
king  of  France,  and  rendered  essential  services  in  the 
War  of  the  Public  Weal. 

His  reward  for  these  services  had  been  the  sword 
of  France,  bestowed  on  him  by  the  monarch  against 
whom  his  own  sword  had  so  lately  been  unsheathed. 
This  was  a  dazzling  elevation,  but  one  calcidated 
rather  to  stinudate  than  to  satisfy  ambition  such  as 
his.  The  oflicc  of  constable,  if  it  were  not  worn 
merely  as  an  empty  honor,  must  bring  him  into  the 
closest  personal  connection  with  Louis.  His  place 
was  at  the  king's  side,  in  the  cabinet  and  in  the 
iield ; "  and  in  this  position  there  was  no  height  of 
intiuencc  or  power  which  he  might  not  hope  to  reach. 
But  he  was  still  the  vassal  of  Burgundv.  His  sons, 
in  accordance  with  a  common  custom,  had  been  edu- 
cated at  the  court  of  Burgundy,  and  now  filled  places 
in  the  ducal  household.  His  estates  in  Picardy,  which 
had  for  a  brief  period  been  incorporated  with  the 
domain  of  France,  had  again,  through  his  own  efforts, 
been  restored  to  the  Burgundian  rule.     By  the  same 


'  "  C'estoit  le  seul  bras  destre  du  roy^  et  le  vrai  cof&e  de  Bon  secr^." 
Chastellain,  p.  458. 


08AP.  II.] 


MEUIA'nON  OF  SAINT-rOL. 


481 


act  he  had  rendered  back  bin  allegiance  to  the  duke 
and  bound  hinisell*  by  new  tics  to  the  king. 

To  Herve  two  Huch  nuiHterH  a.s  thenu  might  well  be 
thought  hnposrtible.  Yet  to  make  an  election  between 
t*  cm  was  not  easy.  He  dared  not  renounce  his  feu- 
da)  obligations  to  the  one;  neither  could  he  turn 
away  from  the  bright  prospects  which  the  other  pre- 
sented to  his  view.  All  that  was  required  of  him  by 
Charles  was  the  duty  of  a  vassal ;  all  that  ho  could 
expect  In  return  was  the  protection  which  the  suze- 
rain was  bound  to  render  to  his  vassal.  Personal 
intluence  over  that  haughty  and  self-reliant  mind, — 
an  admission  to  participate  in  its  dreams  of  conquest 
and  of  glory,  —  he  could  scarcely  hope  to  obtain. 
Louis,  on  the  other  hand,  overflowed  wi^h  gratitude 
to  those  who  embraced  his  cause.  He  unlocked  to 
them  the  secrets  of  his  heart  —  or  seemed  to  do  so. 
Ilis  fertile  intellect  devised  schemes  for  their  advance- 
ment more  brilliant  than  their  most  daring  hopes 
could  have  conceived.  In  a  word,  the  one  looked 
coldly  on  the  ambition  of  his  friends,  the  other  fanned 
it  to  a  livelier  flame. 

In  the  year  1466,  Saint-Pol,  being  then  a  wid- 
ower, had  offered  his  hand  to  Margaret  of  Bourbon, 
a  sister-in-la\v  of  Charles,  who  had  been  bred  at 
the  Burgundian  court,  where  she  still  resided.  His 
proposals  were  rejected  —  the  lady,  perhaps,  not 
choosing  to  wed  a  man  whose  years  nearly  doubled 
hers,  and  the  duke  having  as  little  inclination  to 
see  the  aspiring  blood  of  Luxembourg  united  with 
a  stream  in  which  he  had  mingled  his  own.     The 

VOL.  L  61 


.    r. 


|i||£J: 


P 


482 


MEDIATION  OF  SAINT-POL. 


[book  II. 


king  of  France  had  no  fear  or  jealousy  of  this  kind. 
In  the  ducal  house  of  Savoy,  with  which,  as  we 
have  seen,  he  himself  was  doubly  allied,  he  found 
a  wife  for  Saint-Pol,  another  for  the  constable's  son, 
and  a  husband  for  his  daughter.  He  gave  him  the 
lieutenancy  of  Normandy,  the  post  onc^  held  by 
the  count  of  Charolais.  Like  the  manager  of  a 
theatre,  who  changes  the  casts  of  his  pieces  in  order 
to  test  the  various  merits  of  his  performers,  Louis 
now  assigned  to  Saint-Pol  the  part  which  had  be- 
fore been  so  unskilfully  played  by  Nevers.  He  was 
to  be  a  bulwark  against  the  house  of  Burgundy,  a 
check  upon  its  movements,  a  thorn  in  its  side.  Per- 
sonally he  might  be  made  useful  as  a  go-between  — 
professing  equal  love  to  both  parties,  but  in  fact  de- 
voted to  the  interests  of  the  king,  as  those  with 
which  his  own  ulterior  views,  if  not  his  preseAt  for- 
tunes, were  identified. 

It  was  in  the  guise,  therefore,  of  a  mediator,  rather 
than  of  an  envoy,  that  Saint-Pol  now  appeared  before 
the  duke  to  make  such  representations  as  might  in- 
duce the  latter  to  consent  to  an  accommodation  with 
his  sovereign.  The  tone  he  affected  was  that  of  a 
good  and  loyal  vassal,  whose  duty  it  was  to  tender 
his  best  advice  to  a  young  and  inexperienced  prince, 
to  whom  he  was  bound  alike  by  the  ties  of  allegiance 
and  by  those  of  personal  affection.  He  began  accord- 
ingly by  intimating  that,  in  recommencing  the  war 
against  Liege,  Charles  would  be  giving  just  cause  of 
complaint  to  the  king  of  France,  who  regarded  the 
people  of  that  state  as  his  allies,  included  in  the 


•■  ! 


I  Hflwiri'iii  'i' 


CHAP.  II.] 


MEDIATION  OF  SAINT-POL. 


483 


existing  treaties,  and  entitled,  in  case  they  should 
be  attacked,  to  his  assistance  and  protection.  "  Fair 
cousin,"  exclaimed  the  duke,  stopping  at  once  these 
diplomatic  feints,  such  as  he  seldom  listened  to  with 
patience,  "hold,  I  pray  you,  and  speak  to  me  no  longer 
in  this  strain.  Whatever  may  be  before  me,  what- 
ever fortune  Heaven  may  design  for  me,  I  will  set 
my  army  in  the  field  and  will  march  it  against  Liege. 
I  will  know,  once  for  all,  whether  I  am  to  be  master 
or  varlet.  Whoever  wishes  to  turn  me  from  this  pur- 
pose, or  to  throw  any  impediment  in  my  way,  let  him 
come,  in  God's  name;  I  shall  be  prepared  to  meet 
him.'"^  This  interruption  did  not  put  an  end  to  the 
constable's  meanderings,  but  merely  turned  them  into 
a  somewhat  different  course.  The  king,  he  said,  could 
not  be  blamed  for  interposing  in  behalf  of  a  people 
with  Avhom  he  was  connected  by  ancient  bonds  of 
friendship  and  alliance,  and  who  besieged  him  daily 
with  petitions  and  entreaties  for  assistance,  and  with 
reproaches  for  the  apparent  indifference  with  which 
he  had  twice  already  seen  them  attacked  and  over- 
thrown. The  duke  might  well  content  himself  with 
the  triumphs  he  had  already  gained,  with  the  blood 
that  had  been  already  shed.  Let  him  remember  the 
instability  of  fortune,  and  seek  glory  rather  by  re- 
establishing the  prosperity  of  this  unhappy  people 


'  "  Beau  cousin,  tenez-vous-en  k 
tant  et  ne  m'en  parlez  plus,  car 
quclque  chose  que  avcnir  me  doie, 
ne  qu'il  plaira  h  Diea  m'en  envoyer, 
je  mettrai  mon  armoe  sur  les  champs, 
et  la  tournerai  en  Lit^ge ;  si  89arai  k 


ceste  fois  se  je  serai  maistre  on  var- 
let. Et  dont  et  qui  m'en  vouldra 
destounier  et  y  metti-e  empeiche- 
ment,  viengne,  de  par  Dieu  soit !  et 
il  me  trouvera  pour  respondre." 
Chastellain,  p.  437. 


1'! 


nil  I 


484 


MEDIATION  OF  SAINT-POL. 


[book  n. 


than  by  their  utter  ruin  and  desolation.  Charles 
listened  to  the  long  harangue  of  which  this  was  the 
substance  with  an  air  of  moody  resolution.  Its  hy- 
pocrisy was  too  shallow  to  bewilder  so  clear  an  intel- 
lect. "  The  king,"  he  at  length  exclaimed,  "  desires 
that  the  people  of  Liege  should  remain  at  peace. 
Why,  then,  does  he  not  put  a  stop  to  the  outrages 
which  they  daily  commit  ?  Why  does  he  not  restrain 
their  violence  ?  Is  it  I  who  have  broken  the  peace  ? 
What  new  provocation  have  I  given  them  that  has 
led  them  to  invade  my  dominions,  lay  waste  my  ter- 
ritories, and  harass  my  subjects?  But  lately  they 
have  seized  in  Luxembourg  a  gentleman  of  the  coun- 
try, one  of  my  vassals,  tortured  him,  and  put  him  to 
death.  Enough,  fair  cousin.  I  shall  never  again 
know  joy  at  heart  till  I  have  taken  vengeance  for 
these  insults.  There  is'  neither  king  nor  emperor 
who  shall  turn  me  from  this  emprise."* 

Thus  foiled  in  both  attacks,  Saint-Pol  now  shiftetl 
his  ground  and  chose  another  method  of  approach. 
He  turned  the  conversation  on  the  subject  of  the 
general  relations  between  France  and  Burgundy, 
lamenting  the  absence  of  that  cordiality  which  ought 
to  exist  between  princes  so  nearly  connected  by 
blood,  and  hinting  that  Charles,  in  seeking  an  alli- 
ance with  the  English,  had  estranged  himself  from 
the  interests  of  France,  and  wounded  the  honor  of 
that  royal  house  from  which  he  was  himself  descend- 
ed, and  whose  rights  he  was  bound  to  uphold.  This 
was  a  reproach  to  which  the  duke  could  not  be  alto- 


l'=;  i 


Chastellain,  p.  438. 


Id 


CHAP.  II.] 


MEDIATION  or  SAINT-POL. 


485 


gether  insensible,  conscious  as  he  was  that,  in  imitat- 
ing the  policy  of  his  grandfather,  John  the  Fearless, 
rather  than  that  of  his  father,  Philip  the  Good,  he  was 
running  counter  to  the  instincts  of  the  Trench  nation, 
and  could  scarcely  expect  to  carry  with  him  the  sym- 
pathies even  of  his  own  vassals.     Following  up  his 
advantage,  the  constable  ended  with  a  proposal  to 
extinguish  all  present  differences  between  the  king 
and  the  duke  by  a  truce  of  a  year's  duration,  in  which 
the  allies  of  either  party  should  be  included.     "  The 
king's  allies ! "  replied  Charles,  with  undisguised  sar- 
casm ;  "  who  are  they  ?    If  Liege  be  meant,  I  have 
already  given  you  an  answer."     Then,  referring  to 
the  accusation  which  had  touched  him  nearest,  he 
protested   that   it  was  the  course  pursued   \ij  the 
French  monarch  —  the  hostility  he  had  ever  shown 
to  the  princes  of  the  blood  —  which  had  driven  him 
to  a  step  doubly  repugnant  to  his  feelings,  compel- 
ling a  member  of  the  house  of  Valois  to  ally  himself 
with  England,  a  descendant  of  the  house  of  Lancaster 
to  intermarry  with  that  of  York.     In  conclusion,  the 
most  he  would  consent  to  was  a  truce  of  six  months, 
provided  that  it  should  em})nicc  also  the  dukes  of 
Normandy  and   Brittany.     The  limit  which  he  set 
was  a  sufficient  indication  of  his  ulterior  intentions.' 
While  his  envoy  remained  at  Brussels  Louis  plied 
him  with  messages  day  after  day,  making  inquiries 
in  regard  to  the  state  of  the  negotiation.     Failing 
the  proposals  he  had  already  sent,  there  remained 
an  alternative  proposition  which  he  desigied  iA)  put 


\ : 


•  ChaGtelkiin,  pp.  438,  439. 


486 


MEDIATION  OF  SAINT-POL. 


[book  II. 


ir ' 


forward  when  tlie  proper  moment  should  arrive. 
He  now  summoned  the  constable  to  Paris,  where  he 
detained  him,  however,  but  a  single  night,  and  again 
despatched  him  to  his  post.  Saint-Pol  found  the  duke 
preparing  to  quit  Brussels  for  Louvain,  the  place  ap- 
pointed for  the  muster  of  the  different  levies ;  and 
thither  he  accompanied  him.  The  warlike  host  had 
already  assembled.*''  The  fields  around  the  town  were 
white  with  tents ;  while  the  streets  were  crow  ded  with 
troops  and  with  trains  of  baggfige  wagons  and  artillery. 
No  other  country  could,  in  that  age,  have  furnished,  at 
short  notice,  so  numerous  and  well-appointed  an  army; 
and  only  in  that  age,  and  under  the  system  of  mili- 
tary tenure,  could  such  an  army  have  been  raised  in 
a  country  of  no  greater  extent.  Besides  the  men-at- 
arms  and  the  mounted  archers  whom  the  holders  of 
fiefs  were  bound  to  bring  into  the  field,  the  towns 
had  contributed  pikemen  and  other  infantry  in  quotas 
proportioned  to  their  population.  If  we  could  credit 
the  statement  of  a  chronicler  who  served  in  the  cam- 
paign, the  whole  force,  includ:  ig  camp-followers, 
amounted  to  a  hundred  thousand  men."  Words 
wore  no  longer  needed  to  proclaim  the  unalterable 
purpose  of  the  duke.  But  doubtless  he  would  be 
well  content  to  learn  that,  in  the  execution  of  that 


ii  I 


'»  Chastellain,  p.  4.2. 

"  "  A  celle  fois  le  due  avoit  trente 
mille  payes  aux  champs  passcz  k 
monstre ;  de  quoy  il  fuut  dcnx  ar- 
chers h  cheval  pour  une  pave,  .  .  . 
sans  compter  les  autres  suivaiits  itn 
camp,  ct  dont  Ton  lie  se  jiont  pnsr-ev. 
de  sorte,  que  Ton  tient  qu'il  avoit  en 


son  armoe  bicn  cent  mille  hommus." 
Hayniii,  torn.  i.  p.  82.  —  "  Son  annee 
estoit  tres  gross  ,i :  car  tout  ce  qui 
estoit  pen  veiiir  de  Hourgongne,  s'es- 
toit  vemi  joindre  avec  luy :  et  ne  luy 
veiz  jamais  tant  de  gens  ensemble,  i 
hcaucoup  pres."  Commines,  torn.  L 
p.  124. 


r 


CHAP,  n.] 


MEDIATION  OP  SAINT-POL. 


487 


Ihicn  cent  mille  hominL-s." 
|m.i.p.82.  — "Sonamec 

gross  ,7 :  car  tout  ce  qui 

xcinvdeBourgongne.s'es- 

|oimlrcavecluy:etneluy 

tant  de  gens  ensemble,  ^ 

bves."     Coimnines,tom.L 


purpose,  he  would  encouuter  no  opposition  from  the 
king.  This  assurance  the  royal  envoy  was  now  pre- 
pared to  give.  He  demanded  only,  in  return,  that 
Charles  should  remain  equally  indifferent  while  Louis 
took  measures  for  bringing  to  a  settlement  his  pres- 
ent differences  with  the  duke  of  Brittany.  In  other 
words,  he  proposed  to  the  Burgundian  prince  to 
imitate  his  own  policy  by  deserting  his  allies  at  the 
moment  of  their  necessity.  Had  Louis  himself  been 
present,  plausible  and  subtle  arguments  woiJd  not 
have  been  wanting  to  obscure  the  true  character  of 
this  proposal.  He  had  not  yet  learned  how  all  such 
refinements  v/ere  wasted  on  a  straightforward  and 
resolute  mind.  Broached  by  Saint-Pol,  the  offer  was 
met  liy  a  sharp  and  absolute  refusal ;  and,  as  he  con- 
tinued to  press  it,  Charles  turned  upon  him  a  warning 
glance,  and  reminded  him  that,  though  constable  of 
France,  he  was  still  the  subject  of  the  house  of  Bur- 
gundy. "  The  fairest  of  your  possessions,"  he  said, 
"lie  in  my  dominions.  Your  son  is  present  with 
me  in  the  camp.  Had  I  been  so  minded,  I  might 
have  summoned  you  to  the  field  in  person ;  and  that 
summons  you  dared  not  have  disregarded.  Reflect 
well  on  what  you  do,  fair  cousin ;  for  assuredly,  if 
the  king  meddles  with  my  affairs,  it  will  not  be  to 
your  advantage."  ^^ 

This  menace  had  for  the  moment  its  effect.  Saint- 
Pol  felt  that  he  was  treading  a  slippery  path.  He 
hastened  to  disavow  the  mission  with  which  he  had 

"  "  Si  que,  pensez  bien  h,  vostre    fort  de  ma  guene,  si  ne  sera  ce  point 
cas  :  car  se  le  roy  se  veult  meller  au    h  vostre  preu."    Chastellain,  p.  442. 


1 

nip 

Pf 

I 

i 

■ 

k-."   ' 

u 


it 


488 


MEDLVTIOX  OF  SAINT-POL. 


[book  II. 


been  intrusted,  protested  his  unfaltering  devotion  to 
his  rightful  sovereign,  and  promised,  in  returning  to 
France,  to  employ  himself  more  efficiently  in  the 
service  of  the  duke  than  if  he  were  to  accompany 
him  in  his  expedition,  by  using  his  best  exertions  to 
prevent  the  king  from  violating  the  existing  truce. 
The  lightning  of  Charles's  eye  subsided;  but  his 
mien  and  language  were  cold  and  repellent.  "I 
could  well  desire,"  he  replied,  "  that  the  king  should 
abstain  from  taking  part  against  me  with  these  re- 
bellious villains,  excommunicated  by  the  express 
sentence  of  our  Holy  Father.  Nevertheless,  I  leave 
him  to  act  as  he  shall  think  necessary.  And  for 
you,  foir  cousin,  I  do  not  interfere  with  your  course. 
It  may  be  profitable  to  both  parties ;  but,  however 
you  may  shape  it,  you  will  receive  no  instructions 
or  commands  from  me."  " 

The  impression  left  by  this  conversation  on  the 
mind  of  Saint-Pol  could  not  but  be  that  of  imqualKied 
chagrin.  Standing  between  princes  thus  hostile,  thus 
matched,  and  dependent  on  both,  he  aspired,  by  a 
dexterous  use  of  his  position,  to  obtain  an  influence 
over  each  —  to  be  the  mediator  between  them,  and 
the  umpire  of  their  quarrel.  Such  an  influence  he 
might  suppose  himsell'  to  have  gained  over  the  mind 
of  Louis ;  for  that  prince  was  ready  enough  to  yield 
a  show  of  ascendancy  to  those  who,  in  fact,  were 
merely  the  instruments  of  his  designs.  But  the 
haughty  and  unljonding  character  of  Charles  rejected 
even  the  shadow  of  control ;  and,  while  he  exacted 

"  Idem,  p.  443. 


CHAP,  n.] 


MEDIAIIOX  or  SAINT-POL. 


489 


the  service  that  was  his  due,  he  looked  with  a  chilling 
indifference  on  the  exuberant  demonstrations  of  an 
officious  zeal.  It  was  in  this  manner  iihat  he  had 
received  the  excuses  and  advances  of  the  constable, 
when,  by  a  different  course,  their  former  amity  would 
have  been  restored.  Saint-Pol  might  well  contrast 
such  treatment  with  the  marks  of  confidence  and 
friendship  which  he  was  accustomed  to  receive  from 
the  king.  But  this  thought  only  deepened  his  mor- 
tification, as  he  reilected  on  the  fiiilure  of  his  mission 
and  the  unsatisfactory  account  which  he  must  carry 
back  to  Piiris — a  feeling  that  predominated  over  every 
other  when  he  waited  on  the  duke  to  take  leave  of 
him,  and  found  him  equipped  for  the  field  and  in  the 
act  of  mounting  his  horse.  Turning  towards  the  con- 
stable with  a  meaning  look,  Charles  expressed  his 
desire,  in  the  hearing  of  those  who  stood  by,  that,  dur- 
ing his  absence,  the  king  would  refrain  from  offering 
any  molestation  to  the  duke  of  Brittany.  "  Monsei- 
gueur,"  exclaimed  SaintrPol,  '•  you  leave  us  no  choice ; 
you  bid  us  remain  quiet  and  not  attack  our  enemies, 
while  you  choose  your  own  time  to  march  ag.iinst 
yours.  It  cannot  be ;  the  king  will  not  endure  it." 
Charles  preserved  his  cool  demeanor ;  but  his  reply 
was  trenchant  and  decisive,  "  The  people  of  Liege," 
he  said,  "  are  assembled ;  within  three  days  I  expect 
to  have  a  battle.  If  I  lose  it,  I  doubt  not  that  you 
will  act  your  pleasure ;  but  if  I  win,  you  will  leave 
the  Bretons  in  peace." "     With  this  answer,  which 


'*  "  Les  Liegois  sont  assemblez,  et  m'attena  d'avoir  la  batnille  avant 
VOL.  I.  62 


•         1' 


490 


llENE^VED  WAR  WITH  LIEGE. 


[book   II. 


,4  ■■ 


showed  that  he  clearly  understood  the  state  of  his 
adversary's  game,  he  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  off 
The  first  corps,  or  advanced  guard,  under  the  Sire 
de  Ravenstein,  had  already  crossed  the  frontier,  and 
commenced  the  war  of  "fire  and  blood"  which  had 
been  proclaimed  by  the  heralds."*  The  fields  were 
laid  waste,  the  villages  plundered  and  burned,  and  the 
inhabitants  put  to  the  sword.  Even  convents  and 
other  sacred  edifices  were  not  exempted  from  pillage 
by  these  dcifenders  of  the  Church.'^  An  attempt  was 
also  made  to  surj^rise  Huy ;  but  the  town  had  been 
strongly  garrisoned,  and  the  resistance  was  animated 
by  the  presence  of  Pentecote  d'Arkel,  the  wife  of 
Raes  de  Ileers,  a  woman  of  masculine  character  and 
of  those  martial  instincts  in  which  her  husband  was 
notoriously  deficient.'"     Charles,  with  the  main  body 


qu'il  Roit  trois  jours.  Si  je  la  pers, 
je  croy  bien  que  vous  ferez  h  vostre 
guise ;  mais  nussi,  si  je  la  paigne, 
vous  laisseres!  en  paix  les  Bretons." 
Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  123. 

'^  "  Comnieneerent  h  brusler  de- 
dans le  pays  de  liioge  en  divers  lieux, 
et  mettre  tout  au  sac,  espee  et  flam- 
me."     Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  82. 

'"  See  the  particulars  in  Henricus 
de  Merica,  De  Ram,  pp.  164,  165. 
—  He  adds,  as  something  scarcely 
less  than  miraculous,  that  the  nuns, 
though  despoiled  even  of  their  wear- 
ing ap])arcl,  were  enabled  to  preserve 
their  chfistity  —  a  fact  indicative  of 
the  influence  which  Charles's  well 
known  sentiments  exercised  over  his 
followers  even  in  his  absence.  "  Tarn 
procax  insolentia,  ut  aucillas  Christi 
ad   exuendum   vestimenta  rigorose 


compellerent.  .  .  .  Piccbant  cnim 
imperatorie  ad  illas  scuni :  '  I'Auitu 
vos  sine  mora.'  At  ilkv  incxorabilcs 
hostes  aspicientes,  coram  facie  eoruni 
exucbant  se  vestimenta  sua  ad  ca- 
missam  usque.  .  .  .  Sed  quis  nnn  ob- 
stupescat  magno  Dei  munerc  facluin 
esse,  ut  cum  bona  mobilia  pcrdere 
cogerentur,  thcsauruni  castitatis  in- 
comparabilem  integerrime  conserva- 
rent,  ncc  illarum  uUa,  quantumlibct 
speciosa,  reperta  est  pati  violentiam." 
"  Adrianus  de  Veteri-Bosco,  Am- 
pliss.  Col.,  tom.  iv.  p.  1316. — Jo- 
hannes dc  liOs,  who  in  his  boyhood 
had  seen  this  "  Je/ebel,"  as  he  calls 
her,  retained  a  vivid  im])res8ion  of 
her  fierce  and  haughty  bearing.  His 
mother,  the  wife  of  a  wealthy  exile, 
went,  with  her  six  children,  to  pre- 
sent a  petition  to  De  Heers  and  his 


[book  II, 


OBAP.  II.] 


RENEWED  WAR  WITH  LIEGE. 


491 


le  state  of  his 
ie  and  rode  off. 
under  the  Sire 
le  frontier,  and 
lod"  which  had 
'he  fields  were 
burned,  and  the 
1  convents  and 
ted  from  piHage 
An  attempt  was 
town  had  been 
;e  was  animated 
tel,  the  wife  of 
e  character  and 
ler  hiishiind  was 
1  the  main  body 

.  .  .    Diccbant   enim 
(1  illas  ficurii :  '  l-lxuitu 
I.'    At  ilUv  iucxorabilcs 
ntes,  coram  facie  eoruni 
vestimenta  sua  ad  cu- 
;.  .  .  .  Sed  quis  non  ob- 
pno  Dei  muncrc  factum 
bona  mobilia  pcrdeve 
lesauruni  castitatis  iu- 
1  intcgenime  conserva- 
rum  uUa,  quautumllbct 
Ttaestpativiolentiam." 
R  de  Veteri-BoRCO,  Am- 
om.  iv.  p.  1316.— Jo- 
I,  wbo  in  bis  boyhood 
"  Jezebel,"  as  be  calls 
a  vivid  impression  of 
1  baugbty  bearing.   His 
nife  of  a  wealthy  exile, 
er  six  children,  to  pre- 
m  to  De  Heers  and  his 


IS 


of  the  army,  entered  the  principality  by  the  same 
route  as  in  his  first  expedition.  Crossing  La  Hesbaye, 
which,  like  the  Scottish  border-land  in  the  olden  time, 
had  been  for  ages  the  scene  of  a  perpetual  predatory 
warfare,  and  of  which  the  proverb  said  that  "  He  who 
enters  it  to-day  must  expect  a  combat  on  the  mor- 
row," '**  he  prepared  to  lay  siege  to  Saint-Trond,  the 
town  where  he  had  before  made  his  head-quarters, 
but  where  a  garrison  of  three  thousand  men,  com- 
manded by  an  experienced  officer,  now  manned  the 
walls  and  refused  his  summons  to  surrender. 

In  the  mean  time  a  force  hastily  mustered  in  the 
capital  had  been  sent  out  to  meet  the  invaders.  It 
consisted  of  some  twenty  thousand  men,  nearly  all 
foot  soldiers,  armed  with  long  pikes  and  with  culver- 
ins  —  a  name  then  applied  not,  as  at  a  later  period, 
to  a  species  of  cannon,  but  to  a  rude  kind  of  musket. 
The  chiefs  were  Raes  de  Ilcers,  Barre  Surlet,  and 
cliier  prominent  agitators.  The  Sire  de  Bierlo,  a 
man  of  undoubted  bravery,  carried  the  great  stand- 
ard of  Saint  Lambert. 

The  two  armies  reached  the  neighborhood  of  Saintr 
Trond  almost  simultaneously.  The  duke  appeared 
before  that  town  on  the  afternoon  of  October  27;  and 
the  enemy  reached  Brusten,  a  village  half  a  league 
distant,  on  the  same  evening.  On  the  following 
morning  Charles  drew  up  his  forces  in  order  of  battle. 


wife.  The  internecine  nature  of  the 
struggle  of  parties  in  Liege  is  shown 
by  the  answer.  " '  Melius  enim  esse,' 
inquiunt, '  quam  tu  et  tui  mendicitati 
sint  obnoxii  et  pereant,  quam  nos 
nostrique,  vobis  procui'antibus,  extra 


patriam  profugati  mendicemus  prae 
egestate  et  pereamus  inhonest.' "  De 
Ram,  p.  49. 

'*  "  Que  nul  ne  passe  le  Habsbain, 
qu'il  ne  soit  combatu  le  lendemain." 
Latnarche,  torn.  ii.  p.  273. 


492 


BATTLE  OF  BRU8TEN. 


[book  It. 


\i  I 


It  was  all-important  that,  on  this  occasion,  his  arms 
should  meet  with  no  reverse.  The  king  was  watch- 
ing every  movement;  a  royal  envoy,  the  bailiff  of 
Lyons,  was  present  in  the  enemy's  ranks,  and  Dam- 
martin,  close  at  hand,  waited  only  for  a  signal  to  take 
part  in  the  contest.  Moreover,  the  prestige  of  victory 
was  necessary  to  a  new  prince  leading  his  vassals  to 
the  field  in  person.  He  therefore  made  his  disposi- 
tions with  the  greatest  care  —  no  longer,  as  at  Mont- 
Iher}',  ambitious  to  exliibit  his  personal  prowess,  but 
aspiring  to  the  reputation  of  a  skilful  and  experienced 
commander.  Mounted  on  a  small  horse,  he  rode 
from  troop  to  troop,  giving  his  orders  to  his  officers 
from  a  written  paper  which  he  carried  in  his  hand. 
The  ground  was  level,  but  intersected  in  various 
places  by  an  extensive  morass.  Ditches  and  hedge- 
rows, which  formed  the  boundaries  of  the  fields  around 
the  village,  also  offered  impediments  to  the  move- 
ments of  cavalry.  A  few  thousand  men,  including 
five  hundred  English  archers,  remained  under  the 
walls  of  Saint-Trond,  in  case  a  sally  should  be  at- 
tempted by  the  garrison ;  Ravenstein,  with  the  corps 
under  his  conmiand,  was  sent  forward  to  the  attack; 
while  the  remaining  divisions  were  held  in  reserve, 
but  so  posted  as  to  form  a  new  front  of  battle  on 
ground  better  suited  to  the  operations  of  such  a  force. 
In  case,  therefore,  the  first  corps  was  driven  back,  the 
further  the  enemy  advanced  the  greater  the  resistance 
he  would  encounter  and  the  more  certain  his  defeat.^^ 

"  Haynin,  torn.  i.  pp.  84,  85.  —  Lamarche,  torn.  ii.  pp.  273,  274.— 
Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  127. 


S>=  I 


nil 


fife  ■■431  ■<■ 


CHAP.  II.] 


BATTLE  OF  BRUSTEN. 


493 


The  men  of  Li<3ge  were  well  supplied  with  nrtillcry; 
and,  us  the  Burgundian  troops  nuule  their  approach 
through  a  wood  that  skirted  the  road,  the  branches 
crashed  around  them,  and  echoes  from  every  glade 
multiplied  the  reports.*^  At  length  the  open  fields 
were  reached.  A  halt  was  called.  The  archers  dis- 
mounted, and,  picking  their  way  across  the  marsh, 
began,  with  well  directed  volleys,  to  drive  back  the 
parties  of  the  enemy  posted  behind  the  hedges  and 
to  capture  the  artillery.  But,  as  soon  as  their  arrows 
and  other  missiles  were  spent,  they  were  forced  to 
retreat  in  turn ;  for  the  men-at-arms,  who  should 
have  advanced  to  their  support,  were  unable  to  find 
a  passage  for  their  horses,  and  the  enemy's  pikemen, 
closing  their  ranks,  and  charging  with  shouts  of  tri- 
umph, drove  all  before  them,  killed  a  considerable 
number,  and  threw  the  whole  corps  into  confusion.^^ 

The  Burgundian  ensigns  wavered  and  turned,  and 
it  seemed  as  if  the  day  were  lost.^  But  the  excel- 
lence of  the  duke's  arrangements  was  now  made 
apparent.  The  archers  of  the  "battle,"  or  main  corps, 
unsheathing  the  long  two-handed  swords  which  they 
used  in  close  combat,  raised  a  loud  cheer,  and  assailed 
the  advancing  pikemen  with  such  impetuosity  that 
in  a  moment  these  half-trained  soldiers  were  discom- 


m.  ii.  PP-  273,  274.— 


*"  "Le  bruict  .  .  .  estoit  le  plus        *'  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  128. — 
hideux  que  n'oyz  jamais,  h  cause  du  Haynin,  ubi  supra, 
coup  qui  en  redondoit  comme  en  ser-        **    "  Branloient  toutes    nos  en- 
rent  le  son  dedans  lesdictz  arbres,  seignes,  comme  gens  presque  des- 
et  qui  donnoit  souvent  h,  I'encontre  confitz."    Commines,  ubi  supra, 
desdictz  arbres  et  branches."    Hay- 
nin, torn.  i.  p.  86. 


ft 


494 


BATTLE  OP  BUUSTEN. 


[book  n. 


fited  and  scattered."''  Tlio  panic  soon  spread  tlirou^di 
the  wliole  army.  Do  Iloers  was  anionjj^  the  first  to 
fly.  Here  and  tlr  re  some  more  conrugeous  leader 
rallied  his  men  and  made  a  momentary  stand.  Barre 
Surlet  was  slain  ;  Bierlo  was  wounded  ;  but  the  great 
standard,  torn,  and  soiled  with  dust,  was  carried  off 
by  the  fugitives.  The  cannons,  tents,  and  wagons 
were  all  captured.  The  pursuit,  however, soon  closed; 
for  night  came  on,  and  the  same  obstacles  which  had 
prevented  the  cavalry  from  taking  any  efficient  part 
in  the  ])attle  rendered  it  impossible  for  them  to  fol- 
low up  the  victory.^' 

The  slain  were  variously  estimated  at  from  two  to 
nine  thousand.  The  lowest  number  i«  the  most  likely 
to  have  been  correct.**  But  chance  alone  had  saved 
the  forces  of  Liege  from  extermination.'^  As  it  was, 
their  defeat  had  been  decisive.  As  soon  as  he  had 
retired  to  his  quarters  the  duke  called  for  his  secre- 
tary, and  dictated  a  letter  to  the  Constable  Saint-Pol 


*•  Lamarche,  *om.  ii.  p.  274. — 
Commiiit's,  uhi  supra. 

"*  Lettrc  (III  Due  aux  magistrats 
d'Yprcs  ;  Lettrcs  de  Louis  Van  den 
Rive  et  Jean  de  Ilalewj-n ;  Gachard, 
Doc.  Im;d.,  torn.  i.  pp.  168-172. — 
Haynin.  —  Commines.  —  Lamarche. 
Hem  icus  de  Merica ;  Theodoricus 
Paulus;  De  Ram,  pp.  1G6,  1G7, 
208.  —  The  pusillanimity  exhibited 
by  De  Heers  is  noticed  by  several 
of  the  authorities.  "  N'avoit  point 
la  grace,"  remarks  Haynin,  "  estre 
renomme  pour  le  plus  hardi  che- 
valier." 

**  Commines,  after  giving  six  thou- 


sand as  the  number  reported,  adds, 
"  Qui  semble  beaucoup  i\  toutes  gens 
qui  nc  veullent  point  mentir,"  and 
notices  the  usual  tendency  to  exag- 
geration on  such  occasions.  Two 
letter-writers  from  the  Burgundian 
camp  agree  in  estimating  the  slain 
on  the  enemy's  side  at  about  four 
thousand.  Charles  himself  says  only, 
"  r'li  y  a  cu  giant  nombre  de  mors." 
"  "  N'eust  este  la  nuyt  qui  sur- 
viut,  il  cu  fut  cschappe  bien  peu." 
Lettrc  du  Due,  Gachard,  Doc.  Incd., 
torn.  i.  p.  IG!).  —  "  Si  ce  n'eust  estc  la 
nulct,  il  en  fust  mort  plus  de  quinze 
mil."    Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  129. 


[book  II. 

;pri>ii(l  through 
11  jr  the  first  to 
ragoous  kiuler 
yntaud.   Barre 
J  but  tlie  great 
was  carried  olV 
its,  and  wagons 
ver,  soon  closed ; 
acles  ^vhich  had 
ny  efficient  part 
for  them  to  fol- 

a  at  from  two  to 
,«  the  most  likely 
alone  had  saved 
Lion.'"    As  it  was, 
soon  as  he  had 
ed  for  his  secrc- 
,nstable  SaintrPol 

number  reported,  adds, 
LbcaucoupiUouteagens 

[lent  point  mcntir,"  and 
[usual  tendency  to  exag- 
t  such  occasions.    Two 
[rs  from  the  liurgundian 
!  in  cstininting  the  slain 
[my'B  side  at  about  four 
Charles  himself  says  only, 
■i  gi-ant  nombrc  de  mors." 
Lt  este  la  nuyt  qui  8ur- 
Ifut  cschappo  bien  peu.' 
pucGachard.DocIned., 

L)  "  Si  ce  n'eust  este  la 

fust  mort  plus  de  quinze 
imincs,  torn.  i.  p.  129. 


CHAP.  :i.] 


MARCU  AOAINST  LifcOE. 


495 


ac(iuninting  him  witli  the  result  of  the  combat,  and 
renewing  his  request,  or  rntlier  warning,  that  tiie  king 
should  refrain  from  carrying  into  efl'ect  his  hostile 
designs  again.st  the  Bretons.^' 

On  the  third  day  after  the  battle,  Saint-Trond, 
having  no  longer  any  prospect  of  relief,  opened  its 
gates.  A  fine  was  imposed  upon  the  town,  several 
of  the  inhabitants  were  put  to  death,  and  the  fortifi- 
cations were  ordered  to  be  razed.  The  army  then 
resumed  its  march,  scathing  the  country  tiu'ough 
which  it  passed  with  flames  and  devastation.  The 
people,  fleeing  at  its  approach,  sought  refuge  in  the 
capital,  from  which  the  timid  had  already  begim  to 
escape  in  search  of  a  more  secure  place  of  shelter. 
Tongres  and  other  large  towns  followed  the  example 
of  Saint-Trond,  and  surrendered  at  discretion.  On  the 
9th  of  November  the  duke  reached  Othee,  at  no  great 
distance  from  the  capital,  and  the  scene  of  the  great 
victory  which,  sixty  years  before,  his  ancestor  John  the 
Fearless  had  gained  over  the  people  of  the  principal- 
ity.'-'^ Elated  with  their  easy  successes,  and  with  the 
prospect  of  the  greater  conquest  that  awaited  them, 
tlie  lords  and  captains  spent  the  night  in  revelry, — 
dancing,  drinking,  and  playing  at  dice, — staking  their 
respective  shares  of  the  anticipated  spoils  of  liiege.^ 

Yet  it  was  still  uncertain  whether  the  enterprise 
would  be  crowned  with  success.  As  in  his  first  expe- 
dition, the  lateness  (>f  the  season  and  the  difficulty  of 
obtaining  supplies  made  it  almost  impossible  for  the 


"  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  130. 

"  Ancien  Chronique,  Lenglet,  torn.  ii.  p.  190. 


Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  95. 


%1'    ! 


496 


SURRENDER  OF  LIEGE. 


[MOOK   II. 


i 

[ 

■ 


:i 


rt  ■ 


'.  I 


duke  to  hold  his  forces  together,  and  seemed  to  forbid 
the  idea  of  his  laying  siege  to  so  strong  a  place,  if 
it  should  meet  his  summons  with  defiance.^"  He 
trusted,  however,  that  the  panic  and  confusion  which 
prevailed  among  the  inhabitants  would  prevent  their 
making  any  preparations  for  defence.  The  whole 
city,  indeed,  was  a  scene  of  tumult.  Mutual  recrimi- 
nations distracted  the  counsels  of  the  leaders.  The 
people  no  longer  obeyed  the  orders  or  listened  to  the 
persuasions  of  those  whose  audacity  was  ever  con- 
spicuous save  in  the  hour  of  danger.  The  fate  which 
Dinant  had  incurred  by  a  hopeless  resistance  haunt- 
ed the  imaginations  of  all,  and  stifled  every  spark 
of  patriotism  and  of  courage.  Numbers  quitted  the 
town,  and  sought  safety  and  concealment  in  the  for- 
ests. The  men  of  property  clamored  for  peace  ;  and 
the  clergy  took  the  initiative  by  sending  some  of 
their  body  to  make  their  peace  with  the  bishop,  who 
had  accompanied  the  army,  and  to  request  his  inter- 
cession with  the  Burgundian  prince.^^ 

Charles  at  first  demanded  an  unconditional  surren- 
der. But,  moved  by  the  entreaties  tLat  were  made 
to  him,  he  at  length  gave  a  pledge  that  the  town 
should  be  saved  from  destruction  and  the  houses 
exempted  from  pillage.  On  all  other  points  he  re- 
served the  declaration  of  his  will  until  after  his  ad- 
mission. In  the  mean  time  he  continued  to  advance, 
and,  two  days  later,  (November  11,)  took  up  his 
quarters  at  the  distance  of  half  a  league  from  the 

*°  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  138.  Ampliss.  Col.,  torn.  iv.  pp.  1317, 

"  Adrianus     de     Veteri-Bosco,    1318. 


[book  II. 


CHAP.  II.] 


SURRENDER  OF  LIEGE. 


497 


>med  to  forbid 
[ig  a  place,  if 
jfiance.^"     He 
infusion  wliicli 
.  prevent  their 
;.     The  whole 
Mutual  recrimi- 
leaders.    The 
listened  to  the 
was  ever  con- 
The  fate  which 
jsistance  haunt- 
ed every  spark 
»ers  quitted  the 
[nent  in  the  for- 
[  for  peace  ;  and 
ending  some  of 
the  bishop,  who 
quest  his  inter- 
i 

nditional  surren- 
that  were  made 
that  the  town 
and  the  houses 
ler  points  he  re- 
ntil  after  his  ad- 
Qued  to  advance, 
1,)  took  up  his 
league  from  the 

,1.,  torn.  iv.  pp.  1317, 


walls.  Here  he  was  met  by  a  deputation  of  the  prin- 
cipal citizens,  come  to  deprecate  his  resentment  and 
to  tender  submission  on  behalf  of  the  inhabitants. 
But,  as  it  was  still  doubtful  whether  this  could  be  re- 
garded as  the  act  of  the  whole  population,  Humber- 
court,  taking  with  him  several  of  these  deputies  and 
a  small  body  of  troops,  went  forward,  on  the  same 
evening,  to  the  gate  of  Saint-Martin,  and  demanded 
entrance.  This  being  refused,  he  took  his  station  in 
a  convent,  just  outside  the  wall,  as  a  convenient  post 
from  which  to  gain  some  information  of  the  true  state 
of  affairs  within.  His  situation,  however,  was  a  criti- 
cal one ;  for  the  ground  was  rugged,  tlie  night  dark, 
and,  if  attacked  by  a  superior  force,  it  would  neither 
be  easy  for  him  to  retreat  nor  to  receive  succor  from 
the  camp.  "About  nine  o'clock,"  says  Philippe  dc 
Commines,  who  was  present  with  this  little  party, 
"we  heard  the  alarm-bell  ring,  and  suspected  that 
they  were  about  to  sally  out  upon  us.  And,  in  fact, 
this  suspicion  was  not  unfounded ;  for  they  were  de- 
liberating on  the  matter,  and  some  were  ready  to 
assail  us,  while  others  opposed  it."  The  sagacious 
Humbercourt  prepared  a  conciliatory  letter,  which  he 
sent  into  the  town  by  three  of  the  burghers  whom 
he  had  brought  with  him.  "  If  we  can  divert  their 
attention  till  midnight,"  he  remarked,  "  they  will  grow 
tired  and  sleepy ;  and  those  who  wish  to  attack  us 
will  begin  to  think  of  providing  for  their  own  safety." 
"Soon  afterwards,"  continues  the  narrator,  "we  heard 
the  bell  of  the  palace  sound,  which  calls  the  citizens 
together  for  discussion,  and  knew  that  our  envoys 

VOL.  I.  63 


m 

Wf 

i  -'■ 

I'ji^  111, 

■i  ■',  ■  r 

'      .  :   i 

'r  '"^pT^r  91 ' 

■1 

498 


SURRENDER  OF  LIEGE. 


[book  ii. 


were  managing  the  business  according  to  their  in- 
structions. They  did  not  return ;  but,  at  the  end  of 
an  hour,  there  was  a  great  noise  about  the  gate,  and 
a  crowd  who  had  collected  on  the  wall  assailed  us 
with  abusive  cries.  Then  my  lord  of  Humbercourt 
perceived  that  our  peril  was  imminent."  He  there- 
fore despatched  the  four  other  burghers  with  a  long 
letter,  reminding  the  people  of  the  friendly  terms  on 
which  he  had  lived  with  them,  assuring  them  of  his 
protection,  and  imploring  them  not  to  bring  down 
utter  ruin  on  their  heads  by  further  resistance.  The 
suspense  lasted  until  two  hours  after  midnight.  Then 
the  bell  was  again  heard  —  the  signal  for  the  citizens 
to  disperse.  The  deliberation  had  ended ;  Liege  had 
resolved  upon  submission.  As  soon  as  the  assembly 
had  broken  up  De  Heers  and  others  of  his  party,  to 
the  number  of  four  or  five  thousand,  fled  precipitately 
from  the  town.^^ 

On  the  following  day  the  place  was  fonnally  sur- 
rendered. Three  hundred  and  forty  of  the  citizens, 
kneeling  in  their  shirts,  their  heads  and  feet  uncov- 
ered, delivered  up  the  keys  to  the  duke,  and  suppli- 
cated him  for  pardon.  But  his  pride  was  unsatisfied 
with  this  humiliation.  The  gates,  by  his  order,  were 
removed  from  their  hinges  and  laid  on  the  ground. 
A  portion  of  the  wall  on  either  side  was  also  taken 
down.  Across  this  breach,  trampling  on  the  prostrate 
gates,  the  troops  made  their  entrance  in  all  the  inso- 
lence of  conquest.     Charles  rode  in  the  midst  of  his 

'*  Commines,  torn.  i.  pn.  134-137.    p.  1319.  —  Gachard,  Doc.  Indd.,  torn. 
—  Adrianus,  Ampliss.  Cui.,  torn.  iv.    i.  p.  181. 


[book  n. 


CHAP.  II.] 


SURRENDER  OF  LIEGE. 


499 


g  to  their  in- 
at  the  end  of 
t  the  gate,  and 
all  assailed  us 
f  Humbercourt 
it."     He  there- 
jrs  with  a  long 
iendly  terms  on 
ing  them  of  his 
to  bring  down 
resistance.     The 
midnight.  Then 
1  for  the  citize\is 
aded  J  Liege  had 
as  the  assembly 
5  of  his  party,  to 
fled  precipitately 

ras  fonnally  snr- 
of  the  citizens, 
and  feet  uncov- 
hike,  and  suppli- 
le  was  unsatisfied 
[y  his  order,  were 
on  the  ground, 
le  was  also  taken 
on  the  prostrate 
:e  in  all  the  inso- 
[i  the  midst  of  his 

}acbard,  Doc.  Indd.,  torn. 


nobles,  his  sword  unsheathed,  his  armor  covered  by  a 
rich  mantle  of  velvet  studded  with  precious  stones. 
On  his  right  hand  was  the  bishop.  The  clergy,  them- 
selves a  multitude  in  this  "paradise  of  priests,"^  lined 
one  side  of  the  way,  dressed  in  their  surplices,  and 
bearing  lighted  candles  in  their  hands.  On  the  oppo- 
site side  were  the  people,  mute,  downcast,  yet  expec- 
tant, ranged  in  prescribed  order  —  the  cross  of  Saint 
Andrew,  the  hated  badge  of  Burgundy,  displayed  on 
every  breast.  The  procession  lasted  from  nine  in  the 
morning  till  four  in  the  afternoon.  The  only  audible 
sounds  were  the  orders  of  the  officers  and  the  regular 
tramp  of  men  and  horses ;  for,  the  duke  being  still  in 
mourning  for  his  father,  the  jubilant  strains  of  the 
trumpet,  usually  heard  on  such  occasions,  had  been 
forbidden  to  swell  his  triumph.^ 

The  same  deliberation  and  rigorous  show  of  justice 
that  had  before  characterized  the  proceedings  of  the 
Burgundian  prince  marked  his  conduct  on  the  pres- 
ent occasion.  The  engagements  which  he  had  made 
were  scrupulously  observed.  The  soldiers  were  for- 
bidden to  plunder ;  and  such  of  them  as  ventured  to 
violate  the  command  were  instantly  hanged.^  It 
might  even  be  said  that  he  tempered  justice  with 
clemency.  The  lives  of  the  inhabitants,  in  regard  to 
which  he  had  refused  to  grant  any  stipulations,  were, 
with  a  few  exceptions,  spared.     It  was  on  the  city 

"  Guicciardini,  p.  495.  ''  "  Furent  deux  archers  pendus," 

'*  Hayuin,  torn.  i.  pp.  90-98.  —  complains  Haynin,  "  I'un  pour  avoir 

Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  140.  — Meyer,  robbd  un  mouton,  I'autre  pour  choses 

Annnles  Flandriac,  fol.  342  verso.  —  de   gu6res  meilleure    importance." 

Gachard,  Doc.  Indd.,  torn.  i.  pp.  179,  Tom.  i.  p.  98. 

182. 


I  l\ 


rl.l 


|L 

'■'} 

1 

1 

rai 

1 

-  .  !     ■ 

jii'-il-i 

500 


SUKRENDER  OF  LI^GE. 


[book  II. 


itself —  on  all,  at  least,  that  had  given  to  it  an  exist- 
ence and  a  history  —  that  the  doom  of  death  was  to 
be  pronounced.  On  the  morning  of  the  26th  the 
bell  was  rung  that  had  so  often  called  the  burghers 
together  in  their  usual  place  of  assembly  to  exercise 
the  rights  of  freemen.  On  an  elevated  platform  sat 
the  duke  in  state,  the  bishop  beside  him,  the  princi- 
pal nobles  standing  round.  Charles's  secretary  read 
"the  judgment  and  sentence"  of  his  master,  "word 
byword,  in  a  loud  and  distinct  tone."  The  "  customs" 
of  Liege  —  that  is  to  say,  its  constitution  and  its  laws 
—  were  by  this  instrument  pronounced  "bad,"  and 
were  forever  abrogated.  All  the  franchises  of  the 
people,  their  charters  and  their  privileges  of  every 
kind,  were  declared  to  be  forfeited  and  annulled. 
The  existing  tribunals  were  dissolved.  The  municipal 
government  was  done  away  with.  Tlie  guilds  were 
disincorporated .  The  walls  and  fortifications  were  to 
be  demolished,  so  that  lidge  might  henceforth  be  open, 
"  like  a  village  or  a  country-town,"  on  every  side.'"' 

In  place  of  the  various  codes,  usages,  and  methods 
of  administration,  which,  whatever  their  defects,  had 
been  parts  of  a  living  body,  interwoven  with  the 
thoughts  and  habits  of  a  people,  a  very  simple  sys- 
tem was  established.  Justice  was,  in  all  cases,  to  be 
administered  according  to  the  theories  and  practices 
of  the  "written  law,"  the  "law  of  reason" — that  is 
to  say,  the  civil  or  Koman  law.  It  was  to  be  executed 
by  officers  appointed  by  the  bloiiop,  who  were  also  to 

''  Instrument  notarie  contenant    de  Lidge,  Qachard,  Doc.  Indd.,tom. 
la  sentence  prononcd  contre  le  pays    ii.  pp.  437-472. 


[book  II. 

0  it  an  exist- 
death  was  to 
he  26tli  the 
the  burghers 
ty  to  exercise 
platform  sat 
iiijthe  princi- 
;ecretary  read 
siaster, "  word 
'he  "  customs" 
m  and  its  laws 
ed  "bad,"  and 
nchises  of  the 
leges  of  every 
and   annulled. 
The  municipal 
le  guilds  Avere 
cations  were  to 
-eforthbeopen, 

every  side.^° 
IS,  and  methods 
eir  defects,  had 
f^oven  with  the 
ery  simple  sys- 
all  cases,  to  be 
iS  and  practices 
lason"— that  is 
to  be  executed 
dio  were  also  to 

[hard,  Doc.  In^d.,  torn. 


CHAP.  11.] 


SURRENDER  OF  LIEGE. 


501 


take  an  oath  of  fidelity  to  the  duke.  The  latter,  as 
had  already  been  agreed  upon  by  treaty,  was  to  be 
the  sovereign  "Protector"  of  the  state, with  the  right 
to  call  upon  the  inhabitants  for  military  service,  and 
to  suppress  mutiny  and  civil  commotions. 

The  reading  of  the  act  be'^^  finished,  the  question 
was  p;^^  to  the  people  whether  they  accepted  and 
were  resolved  to  abide  by  it.  The  notaries  who  sign 
it  make  their  attestation  that  no  objection  was  offered 
—  that,  to  the  best  of  their  belief,  all  hands  and  voices 
were  raised  in  token  of  assent.^''  Among  the  charters 
thus  abolished,  without  opposition,  without  a  murmur, 
were  some  which  had  been  won  in  long  and  despe- 
rate struggles  and  sealed  with  the  blood  of  thousands. 
The  bishop  and  the  canons,  being  called  upon  in  turn, 
gave  a  formal  expression  of  their  approval.  The  duke 
then  spoke  a  few  words,  promising  favor  and  protec- 
tion if  deserved.  Of  his  intentions  in  the  opposite 
contingency  a  significant  w^arning  was  afforded  by 
the  decapitation,  some  days  later,  on  the  same  spot, 
of  nine  persons  excepted  from  the  general  pardon.**® 

This  warning  was  the  more  necessary,  since  Charles 
had  no  other  means  of  giving  efftrt  to  his  measures 
and  enforcing  a  compliance  with  the  treaty  than  the 
terror  inspired  by  his  presence  and  the  impression 
he  might  leave  at  his  departur<».  He  had  no  standing 
army  in  his  pay.     He  could  not  leave  behind  him  a 

"  "  Adonc  ilz  respondirent  tons  h  ment  d'eulx  entretenir,  garder  et  ac- 

liaultc  vcis,  sans  nesun  contredisant,  complir  i\  la  maniere  susdicte."  Ibid., 

que  [comme]  il  sambloit,  disant '  oy !  p.  470. 

oy ! '  ct,  leurs  mains  ainsi  levees  en        '*  Adrianua,  Amplisa.  Col.,  torn, 

hault,  lis  juront  [jurerent]  solempne-  iv.  —  Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  100. 


502 


SURRENDER  OF  LIEGE. 


[book  II. 


t  I 


sufficient  force  to  subdue  ev«^ry  hope  of  further  re- 
sistance and  to  crush  the  first  symptoms  of  renewed 
disaffection.  His  levies  were  raised  for  a  limited  term, 
for  service  in  actual  war,  for  the  purpose  of  striking 
a  single  blow ;  and  therefore  that  blow,  when  struck, 
must  be  vigorous  and  effectual.  Nor  could  he  remain 
longer  to  superintend  in  person  the  execution  of 
his  decrees.  That  counterstroke  by  which  the  king, 
on  a  former  occasion,  in  sacrificing  Liege  had  recov- 
ered Normandy,  had  taught  his  rival  the  danger  of 
abandoning  his  guard  even  for  a  single  moment 
Leaving  Humbercourt  behind  him,  with  a  fresh  com- 
mission of  the  same  tenor  as  the  former  one,  Charles 
accordingly  quitted  Liege,  on  the  28th  of  November. 
Before  his  departure  he  had  directed  that  the  Perron, 
the  symbol  of  those  libertj^es  which  he  had  destroyed, 
should  be  removed  from  its  place  in  the  palace  square. 
He  carried  this  pillar  with  him  to  the  Netherland.s, 
and  caused  it  to  be  set  up  at  Bruges,  in  the  centre 
of  the  Exchange  —  a  spot  frequented  by  strangers 
from  every  clime,  who  would  see  in  it  a  trophy  of 
his  conquest,  and  who  might  read,  in  the  inscription 
placed  upon  its  base,  a  warning  to  such  as  drank  too 
deeply  of  the  cup  of  Freedom  and  grew  intoxicated 
with  its  fumes.'^® 


'ij;;i 


mm 


^*  "  Desine  sublimes  viiltws  attolere  in  auras, 
Disce  meo  casu  perpetuum  esse  nihil. 
Nobilitatis  ego  I.codis  venerabile  signum, 

Gcntis  et  inuicta?  gloria  nuper  erarn : 
Sum  modo  spectaclum  ridentis  turpe  popelli, 
Et  tester  Caroli  me  cecidisse  manu." 
■Meyer,  Annales  Flandrite,  fol.  342  verso. 


CHAPTER    III. 


CHAELES'S  HOUSEHOLD  AND  MODE  OP  GOVEUNMENT.  —  HIS  UXBr- 
RIAGE  WITH  MARGARET  OF  YORK.  — HOSTILE  DEMONSTRATIONS 
OF  LOUIS.  —  HIS   VISIT  TO  P^RONNE. 

1468. 


From  the  moment  when  intelligence  had  reached 
him  of  the  death  of  Philip  the  Good  the  king  had 
been  engaged  in  active  preparations  for  a  new  strug- 
gle with  his  powerful  and  discontented  vassals.  A 
new  league,  he  doubted  not,  was  forming  against  him. 
The  courts  of  Burgundy,  of  Brittany,  and  of  England 
were  in  close  alliance  and  constant  communication. 
The  claims  of  Charles  of  France  were  again  to  serve 
as  the  pretext  for  hostilities ;  and  Normandy,  as  be- 
fore, would  be  the  chief  theatre  of  the  contest,  and 
the  pri^e  of  the  victorious  party. 

But  at  least  Louis  was  not  again  to  be  taken  at  a 
disadvantage.  He  had  a  great  army  on  foot.  Nor- 
mandy was  filled  with  troops,  and  the  frontier  on 
either  side  was  carefully  guarded.  Paris  was  kept 
in  a  posture  of  defence ;  and  the  houses  of  Bourbon 
and  Anjou  being  now  attached  to  the  royal  cause,  no 

C«9) 


t\lf 


Jk 


li"' 


M 


H; 


504 


SCHEMES  OF  LOUIS. 


[book  n. 


outbreak  was  to  be  apprehended  iu  the  central  or 
southern  parts  of  the  kingdom. 

Nor  were  the  phins  of  Louis  confined  to  measures 
of  resistance.  If  in  actual  war  he  commonly  stood 
on  the  defensive,  in  policy  he  was  always  bold,  always 
on  the  offensive,  always  busy  in  contriving  schemes 
for  harassing  and  weakening  his  enemies.  Tlu'ough 
the  agency  of  Warwick,  now  his  secret  pensioner  and 
ally,  he  was  preparing  the  materials  for  another  civil 
war  in  England,  which  might  burst  forth  at  any  mo- 
ment, if  Edward  should  give  active  aid  to  the  con- 
federates or  attempt  the  invasion  of  France.  He  had 
endeavored,  in  like  manner,  to  find  employment  at 
home  for  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  by  exciting  insur- 
rections in  Brabant  and  setting  up  the  count  of 
Nevers  as  a  pretender  to  that  duchy.  He  had,  un- 
happily, been  more  successful  in  inciting  Liege  to 
another  vain  and  desperate  effort  for  the  recovery 
of  her  independence,  but  without  deriving  from  this 
success  the  fruits  which  he  had  expected.  He  had 
failed  to  shake  the  alliance  between  the  dukes  of 
Burgundy  and  Brittany.  He  had,  indeed,  seized  the 
opportunity  of  Charles's  absence  to  make  a  demon- 
stration against  Francis,  hoping  to  overawe  the  latter, 
and  compel  him  to  deliver  up  the  heir  to  the  crown 
and  to  abandon  the  league.  But  the  Burgundian 
victory  at  Brusten  had  dashed  his  hopes  on  the  eve 
of  their  fulfilment  A  few  weeks  had  sufficed  for  the 
reduction  of  Liege.  Early  in  December  the  duke 
had  returned  to  the  Netherlands;  and  his  vassals 
were  summoned  to  reassemble  at  Saint-Quentin,  in 


^  I  t 


[book  n. 

he  central  or 

J  to  measures 
nimonly  stood 
ys  bold,  always 
iving  schemes 
lies.     Through 
pensioner  and 
)r  another  civil 
rth  at  any  mo- 
lid  to  the  con- 
rance.    He  had 
employment  at 
exciting  insm'- 
)  the  count  of 
LT.     He  had,  un- 
citing  Liege  to 
ir  the  recovery 
Iriving  from  this 
lected.     He  had 
the  dukes  of 
[deed,  seized  the 
make  a  demon- 
lerawe  the  latter, 
eir  to  the  crown 
Ithe  Burgundian 
•pes  on  the  eve 
sufficed  for  the 
smber  the  duke 
and  his  vassals 
paintrQuentin,  in 


CHAP.  III.] 


CHAllLES'S  COURT. 


505 


Picardy,  on  the  IGth  of  the  same  month.*  The  king 
was  therefore  obhged  to  desist  from  his  intended  at- 
tack, and  turn  to  meet  the  assault  with  which  he  was 
himself  threatened  from  an  opposite  quarter.  Charles, 
however,  content  for  the  moment  with  having  fended 
off  the  blow  aimed  at  his  allies,  postponed  the  assem- 
bhng  of  his  troops,  and  turned  his  attention  to  his 
domestic  affairs,  which,  in  the  first  interval  of  tran- 
quilHty  since  his  accession,  demanded  his  immediate 
care. 

The  Burgundian  court  had  never  worn  so  ani- 
mated an  appearance  as  in  the  spring  and  summer 
of  1468.  It  was  thronged  with  envoys  from  foreign 
states,  with  deputations  from  provinces  and  towns, 
with  solicitors  for  offices  and  pensions,  for  pa /dons 
and  rewards.  The  prince,  though  still  younj^',  .vas 
held  in  the  first  consideration  among  European  sove- 
reigns. With  the  splendor  of  his  inherited  position 
and  the  glory  he  derived  from  his  immediate  prede- 
cessor were  combined  the  eclat  of  his  own  achieve- 
ments and  the  reputation  of  a  bold  and  aspiring 
disposition."  He  was  regarded  as  the  representative 
of  chivalry  and  the  champion  of  feudalism ;  but  gov- 
ernments like  that  of  Venice,  which  regulated  their 
conduct  hj  the  nicest  rules  of  a  scientific  policy,  saw 
the  importance  of  cultivating  the  friendship  of  a 
sovereign  whose  power  was  already  so  considerable, 

'  Gachard,  Doc.  Iiied.,  torn.  i.  p.    fame,  et  doubte,  et  manifie  par  terre 
183.  et  par  mer  pour  ses  pi'incipes."  Chas- 

'  "Avecques  gloire  paternelle  qui    tellain,  p.  446. 
lui  rciverberoit  en  face,  si  estoit-il  jii 
VOL.  I.  64 


iif'r* 


ri-t^5y:M'^ 


". 


j 


506 


BURGUNDIAN  HOUSEHOLD. 


[book  II. 


and  who  had  given  such  proofs  of  his  determination 
to  extend  its  huiits.  ' 

During  several  months  Charles  was  busily  em- 
ployed in  remodelling  his  household,  in  regulatii.g 
his  finances,  and  in  correcting  what  he  considered  io 
have  been  the  abuses  of  his  father's  administration. 
He  maintained  an  establishment  on  the  Siiine  scale, 
indeed,  as  that  of  Philip,  with  the  same  state,  the 
same  pompous  etiquette,  the  same  multitude  of  offi- 
cers and  personal  attendants.  But,  in  place  of  the 
Wasteful  expenditure,  the  unbounded  gayety,  and 
festal  profusion  of  the  former  reign,  he  introduced  a 
severe  decorum,  a  strict  discipline,  an  exact  outlay,  a 
rigorous  examination  of  service  and  compensation. 
The  salaries  were  liberal,  but  proportioned  to  the 
duties  demanded  and  performed.  Nothing  dro})pe(l 
from  an  open  hand  too  "careless  to  select  the  objects 
of  its  benefactions ;  nothing  was  winked  at  by  an 
eye  that  feared  or  disdained  the  office  of  critical  in- 
vestigation.'' Pomp  and  ceremony  which,  in  Philip's 
court,  had  been  so  elaborated  and  diffused  as  to  con- 
ceal every  other  purpose  beneath  that  of  decoration, 
had  now  their  visible  i;r:cs  ?x  supports  of  a  structure 
raised  on  no  irregular  or  grotesque  plan. 

There  existed  in  Charles's  mind  a  clear  and  pre- 
cise conception  of  those  ideas  in  which  the  scheme 
of  a  noble  or  princely  household,  with  its  immense 
variety  of  forms  and  usages,  had  originated.    In  such 


|L.: 


siJt 


'  "  H  en  fit  comme  sage  ct  comme  lessid  souler  et  souffert  aller  h.  parte, 
mieux  advise  que  non  y  attendre ;  par  estre  trop  bon."  Chastellain, 
car  son  noble  pere  en  avoit  beaucoup    p.  445. 


■^4ii  a^ 


is  determination 


-retsouffertallerfiperte, 
trop  bon."    Chastellain, 


CHAP.  HI.] 


BUROUNDIAN  HOUSEHOLD. 


507 


a  hoiiHehold  tlie  regulation  of  a  family  wa.s  coml>ined 
wfth  the  transaction  of  important  business,  with  the 
management  of  a  great  landed  estate,  or  of  what  was 
in  ftict  the  same  thing,  a  state  —  for  the  tenancy  of 
land  implied  the  obligations  of  vassalage,  and  the 
right  to  dispose  of  lands  subject  to  such  obligations 
implied  the  feudal  notion  of  lordship  or  sovereignty. 
Tlie  sovereign  granted  his  lands  to  his  kinsmen  and 
dependants  as  the  reward  of  services  rendered,  and 
on  condition  of  the  continuance  of  those  services. 
He  was  not  merely  the  landlord  or  proprietor  of  the 
soil,  —  not  merely  the  civil  ruler,  with  the  right  of 
jurisdiction  and  other  natural  prerogatives  of  sove- 
reignty,—  but  he  was  the  head  of  a  family,  of  which 
all  his  teuMuts  were  in  a  certain  sense  members. 
Hence  the  rights  of  wardsljp  and  of  marriage,  and 
various  customs  of  the  like  nature.  Hence  also  tlie 
absence  of  a  distinction  subsequently  made  between 
officers  of  state  and  officers  of  ti\e  household,  and 
the  performance  by  men  of  the  highest  birth  of 
duties  which  in  the  palace  of  the  Cajsars  would  have 
been  considered  fit  only  for  slaves.  Closely  exam- 
ined, that  principle  which  lay  at  the  basis  of  the 
patriarchal  system  and  of  the  clan,  by  which  the 
body  politic  was  sup;  osed  to  be  only  a  larger  family, 
and  the  authority  of  the  ruler  was  derived  from  his 
inherited  position  as  its  head,  will  be  found  to  have 
existed  also  among  the  complicated  relations  of  feu- 
dalism. 

Every  noble  household  was  a  court,  fonned  on  the 
same  pattern  as  that  of  the  monarch,  and  differing 


P:Pk  ..! 


i|| 


li  I 


If* 


508 


BUnOUNDIAN  HOUSEHOLD. 


[hook  n. 


I' 


from  it  only  in  degreoM  of  magnitude  and  splendor. 
It  was  fdled  with  a  crowd  of  retainers,  whose  various 
functions,  including  those  of  personal  attendance  on 
the  heads  of  the  family,  implied  not  a  menial  condi- 
tion of  domestic  servitude,  but  a  tie  of  fealty  and 
honor.  Every  service  was  in  the  nature  of  an  act 
of  homage.  Every  ceremony  was  symbolical,  indi- 
cating the  nature  and  the  limits  of  that  political  tie 
which  bound  together  the  diflerent  classes  of  society. 
The  bending  of  the  knee  was  no  abasement ;  the  lord 
himself  paid  the  like  obeisance  to  his  suzerain.*  The 
attendant  who  waited  obsequiously  at  his  table,  carved 
the  viands  or  poured  out  the  wine,  held  perhaps  the 
highest  place  in  his  confidence,  and  acted  in  war  as 
his  standard-bearer  or  his  lieutenant.  The  page  who 
went  upon  the  lady's  errands  was  himself  of  gentle 
birth,  and  looked  forward  to  a  time  when  he  should 
win  his  spurs  in  her  quarrel  or  wear  her  favors  in  the 
tilting-field.  Service  in  the  family  of  a  man  of  rank 
afforded  the  proper  training  for  noble  youth,  who, 
passing  successively  through  various  gradations  of 
advancement,  gained  a  thorough  acqiuiintance  with 
the  duties  and  the  accomplishments,  as  well  as  with 
the  manners  and  the  sentiments,  which  would  here- 
after be  demanded  of  them  in  a  higher  sphere  of 
action,  and  which  a  succeeding  generation  would  ac- 
quire from  their  example. 

*  The  real  nature  of  such  usages  kneels  in  paying  homage  to  his  sovc- 

is  shown  in  the  relics  which  have  reign ;  but  no  such  marks  of  honor 

survived  the  o^  erthrow  of  the  feudal  arc  paid  to  a  person,  of  whatever 

system.    An  English  nobleman  still  rank,  by  his  menial  attendants. 


Wi 


CUAP.  HI.] 


DUUOUNDIAN  HOUSEHOLD. 


509 


paying  homage  to  his  sovc- 
k  no  such  marks  of  honor 
[to  a  person,  of  whatever 
Biis  menial  attendants. 


Tlio  Burgundiun  cHtiiblislnnont  was,  ns  wo  have 
(ilready  reniarkod,  the  most  costly  and  Miagnifieont 
in  Kuropc.  Subsequently,  under  the  line  of  Austria, 
the  rulers  of  Spain  and  of  the  Netherlands,  it  wa.s 
raised  perhaps  to  a  still  higher  degree  of  external 
splendor;  but  it  seems, at  the  same  time,  to  have  lost 
some  of  its  essential  characteristics.  In  the  sixteenth 
century  royalty  no  longer  rested  on  the  same  foun- 
dations as  feudal  sovereignty;  and  a  feudal  household 
no  longer  symbolized  the  relations  between  the  crown 
and  its  vassals.  It  did  not  bring  the  monarch  into 
constant  and  habitual  intercourse  with  his  nobles,  or 
place  him  on  a  conspicuous  stage  where  his  subjects 
of  every  rank  might  behold  him  and  have  access  to 
his  person.  Charles  the  Fifth  and  Philip  the  Second 
lived  isolated  lives  in  the  midst  of  their  courts.  They 
submitted  to  the  more  irksome  restraints  of  an  elab- 
orate ceremonial  only  on  special  occasions.  Their 
public  audiences  were  merely  formal,  and  as  rare  and 
brief  as  possible.  They  spent  most  of  their  time  in 
the  seclusion  of  their  closets.  They  were  seldom  or 
never  present  at  the  sittings  of  the  different  councils, 
nor  were  these  bodies  intrusted  with  the  full  knowl- 
edge and  direction  of  the  matters  that  nominally 
belonged  to  them.  Even  the  Privy  Council,  instituted 
by  these  princes  as  a  depositary  of  their  secrets  and 
a  final  court  of  appeal,  was  soon  found  to  be  unsuited 
to  so  delicate  an  office.  Every  thing  of  importance 
was  reserved  for  a  consiiUa  or  secret  committee  — 
sometimes  for  a  single  minister,  who  alone  possessed 
a  key  to  all  the  mysteries  of  the  government.    The 


!     I 


I. 


!:•  /^ 


i 


\m 


!f  I 


1^ 


I- 


510 


BURGUNDIAN  HOUSEHOLD. 


[book  II. 


ostensible  machinery  of  the  state  was  in  a  great  de- 
gree useless  as  well  as  cumbersome ;  the  wheels  on 
which  it  really  moved  were  hidden  from  view. 

This  was  not  the  system  maintained  by  Charles  of 
Burgundy.     Little  influenced  by  others,  he  gave  no 
exclusive  confidence,  no  extraordinary  powers,  to  par- 
ticular individuals.     The  current  of  his  affairs  flowed 
regularly  through  channels  that  were  open  and  direct. 
He  presided  in  person  at  the  council-board,  where 
the  business  in  hand  was  freely  discussed  and  de- 
finitively settled.     His  daily  ^ife  was  one  of  pomp 
and  publicity.      Everj'  morning,  after  the  ceremo- 
nies of  the  grande  Uvhc,  he  attended  mass  either  in 
his  chapel  or  in  a  public  church,  and  was  followed 
by  a  long  procession  of  princes  and  nobles,  knights, 
equerries,  and  pages.     He  dined  always  in  state,  sur- 
rounded by  the  whole  court,  and  served  by  the  highest 
functionaries,  each  performing  his  particular  office 
with  the  forms  prescribed  by  a  code  of  etiquette  that 
embraced  a  multitude  of  details.    When  the  banquet 
was  ended  all  took  their  seats,  in  due  order  of  prece- 
dence, on  rows  of  benches  along  tlie  sides  of  the  hall. 
There  was  no  lack  of  splendid  dresses  and  sparkling 
gems,  or  of  whatever  else  could  give  brilliancy  to  the 
scene.     The  duke's  chair  was  on  a  dais  raised  three 
steps  above  the  floor  and  carpeted  with  cloth  of  gold. 
His  attire,  as  became  his  superior  rank,  was  rich  and 
magnificent  above  that  of  all  the  rest.^     His  bearing 
was   stately.      His   glance,   as   it   ranged   over  the 

'  "Fit  tousjours,   comme  prince    magnifiquement  habitud  sur  tou-. 
et  chief  sur  tous,  fust  richement  et    Chastellain,  p.  448. 


CHAP.  III.] 


BURGUNDIAN  HOUSEHOLD. 


511 


as  in  a  great  de- 
e ;  the  wheels  on 
from  view, 
led  by  Charles  of 
thers,  he  gave  no 
ary  powers,  to  par- 
F  his  affiiirs  flowed 
re  open  and  direct, 
uncil-board,  where 
discussed  and  de- 
was  one  of  pomp 
after  the  ceremo- 
led  mass  either  in 
,  and  was  followed 
nd  nobles,  knights, 
Iways  in  state,  snr- 
rved  by  the  highest 
is  particular  office 
le  of  etiquette  that 
When  the  banquet 
due  order  of  prece- 
lie  sides  of  the  hall. 
•esses  and  sparkling 
ve  brilliancy  to  the 
a  dais  raised  three 
with  cloth  of  gold. 
rank,  was  rich  and 
rest.^     His  bearing 
ranged   over  the 

uement  habitue  sur  tou-. 
un,  p.  448. 


assembly,  confessed  his  pride  in  that  band  of  noble 
vassals,  the  satellites  of  his  glory,  and  confidence  in 
his  own  capacity  as  their  ruler  and  their  chief" 
Often  he  discoursed  to  them,  "  like  an  orator,"  of  the 
duties  and  obligations  annexed  to  their  stations,  as 
well  as  of  fealty  and  honor,  and  the  other  virtues  of 
the  knightly  character.''  Thrice  in  the  week  the 
assembly  became  a  public  audience.  The  meanest 
subject  might  enter  to  present  his  petition,  which  was 
read  aloud  by  a  secretary  kneeling  on  a  footstool  in 
front  of  the  throne.  Whenever  he  went  abroad  the 
duke  was  followed  by  a  long  and  brilliant  retinue 
that  courted  the  public  gaze.  At  night  he  was  es- 
corted to  his  chamber  by  a  group  of  equerries,  sixteen 
in  number,  who  were  in  constant  and  immediate  at- 
tendance upon  his  person.  They  were  selected  from 
the  noblest  families,  and  their  office  was  regarded  as 
peculiarly  honorable.^    They  were  the  "  companions  " 


*  "  Les  regarda  le  maistre  volen- 
tiers,  et  y  print  grand  dclit.  Et  luy 
scmbloit  bien,  puisqu'il  estoit  puis- 
sant et  de  volonte  pour  les  tenir  aises 
et  tellcmen't  comme  ly,  il  estoit  bien 
raison  que  eulx  aussi  eussent  volente 
de  mesmes,  pour  lui  faire  honneur  et 
service  qui  lui  peust  plaire.  Car  b, 
dire  vray,  et  aussi  ses  faits  le  mon- 
strerent,  il  aimoit  fort  gloire."  Chas- 
tellain,  p.  447. 

'  It  seems  to  have  been  customary 
for  the  head  of  a  household  to  de- 
liver solemn  harangues  to  his  sons 
and  the  other  members  of  his  family, 
which  were  listened  to  with  the  ut- 
most deference  and  submission.  In- 
stances may  be  found  in  the  Chro- 


nique  du  Bon  Chevalier  and  other 
works  of  the  same  kind.  In  the  six- 
teenth century  the  practice  of  send- 
ing their  sons  to  be  educated  in  a 
friend's  family  was  especially  in  use 
among  the  English  nobility  —  the 
extent  to  which  it  was  carried,  the 
express  surrender  for  a  stated  num- 
ber of  years  of  the  paternal  author- 
ity, and  the  rigor  exercised  by  the 
guardian,  being  noticed  as  peculiar- 
ities of  the  country  in  some  of  the 
Venetian  Relazioni.  In  Cavendish's 
Life  of  Wolsey  the  young  earl  of  Xor- 
thumberlanu  it  represeiued  as  receiv- 
hig  with  exemplary  meekness  a  severe 
rating  from  his  master  the  cardinal. 
^  Lamarche,  torn.  ii.  pp.  482, 492. 


it   ! 


512 


BURGUNDIAN  HOUSEHOLD. 


[book  n. 


of  the  prince,  waiting  upon  him  at  all  hours,  sharing 
his  privacy,  amusing  his  leisure  after  the  business  of 
the  day  with  their  conversation,  with  relations  of 
warlike  exploits  and  the  more  difficult  achievements 
of  love,  with  music  or  chess,  or  the  reading  aloud 
of  some  grave  passage  of  history  or  not  less  stately 
romance.  Wher  they  withdrew,  it  was  to  the  ad- 
joining antechamber,  where  they  passed  the  night 
—  it  being  a  part  of  their  duty  to  guard  their  sove- 
reign's rest.' 

Such,  when  he  was  not  engaged  in  military  oper- 
ations, was  Charles's  ordinary  way  of  life.  There  were 
exceptions  to  this  routine  —  days  when  the  duke  was 
present  neither  at  the  council  nor  the  banquet;  when 
he  shut  himself  from  the  world,  and  yielded  to  the 
resistless  influx  of  a  melancholy  which  we  have  al- 
ready noticed  as  belonging  to  his  temperament,  some- 
times a  dejection  that  had  its  origin  in  calamity  or 
disappointment,  often  perhaps  the  mere  reaction  of 
a  strain  upon  the  faculties  too  constant  and  intense.^" 


®  A  full  account  of  Charles's  court, 
including  a  minute  description  of  the 
ceremonies  of  the  table,  &c.,  by  Oli- 
vier de  Lamarche,  who  held  the  post 
of  maUre  d'hotel  under  successive 
princes  of  the  Burgundian  and  Aus- 
trian lines,  is  printed  at  the  end  of 
his  Mumoires  in  Petitot's  edition. 
See  also  Chastellain,  (especially  im- 
portant for  the  spirit  and  meaning 
of  this  pompous  etiquette,)  chapters 
141, 142,  and  his  "  Eloge  de  Charles 
le  Hardy." 

"*  Chastellain  mentions  an  instance 
at  this  period,  (May,  1468,)  and  can 


only  attribute  it  to  the  recent  death 
of  the  duke's  kinsman,  Jacques  de 
Bourbon ;  but  the  effects  he  describes 
seem  strangelydisproportioned  to  the 
cause  :  "  Le  due  s'y  cstoit  tellement 
altcre  et  devenu  perplex,  qu'i\  peine 
osoit-il  asseurer  de  sa  vie ;  et  n'y 
avoit  nul,  ne  medecin  no  aultre,  qui 
le  peust  oncques  remettre  en  joie 
ne  en  paix  de  cuer,  tant  se  donnoit 
peur  et  melancolie  ;  toutes-fois  n'a- 
voit  ne  se  sentoit  nuUement  mal,  si- 
non  ce  qu'il  s'en  donnoit  par  pensee." 
p.  453. 


/W 


[book  II. 

3,  sharing 
isiness  of 
ations  of 
evements 
ing  aloud 
ss  stately 
0  the  ad- 
the  night 
heir  sove- 

itary  oper- 
rhere  were 
e  duke  was 
pet;  when 
ded  to  the 
re  have  al- 
iient,  some- 
calamity  or 
reaction  of 
id  intense.^" 


CHAP.  HI.]        CHARLES'S  MODE  OF  GOVERNMENT. 


513 


Every  thing  in  the  management  of  his  affairs  showed 
the  concentrated  purpose  with  which  he  had  devoted 
himself  to  the  development  of  his  resources  and  the 
extension  of  his  power.  Insensible  to  bodily  fatigue, 
he  labored  "outrageously"  himself  and  tasked  his 
servants  to  the  utmost  of  their  strength."  The  busi- 
ness of  the  audience  or  of  the  council-chamber  was 
often  protracted  till  a  late  hour  of  the  night.  Who- 
ever exhibited  any  signs  of  weariness  incurred  a 
sharp  rebuke ;  whoever  was  absent  from  his  station 
found  himself  mulcted  in  a  corresponding  portion  of 
his  salary.  In  matters  of  finance  the  duke  was  espe- 
cially rigorous  and  methodical.  He  sat  among  the 
members  of  the  body  by  which  these  affairs  were  reg- 
ulated, making  the  same  calculations  as  tlie  others, 
scrutinizing  every  item,  permitting  no  estimate  to 
pass,  no  account  to  be  closed,  until  it  had  received 
the  impression  of  his  seal.'^  He  "  visited  "  the  treas- 
ury of  his  father,  caused  an  inventory  to  be  made  of 
its  contents,  and  took  care  that  they  should  suffer  no 
diminution.  These  accumulations,  as  well  as  the  fines 
he  had  extorted  from  rebellious  Liege,  he  reserved 
for  extraordinary  occasions  —  for  projects  of  which 
the  conception  was  yet  vague  or  unformed,  for  emer- 
gencies certain  to  arise  though  the  nature  of  them 
was  yet  unforeseen.     The  charges  of  his  household 


"  !'  Entei^doit  fort  h  son  affaire ;  provision  du  bien  public.    Perdoit 

estoit  actif,  laborieux  par  trop,  et  peu  d'heures,  et  travailloit  fort  gens : 

plus  qu'il  ne  scoit  h,  tel  prince :  soir  mesme  soy  se  travailloit  par  onl- 

et  matin  toudis  en  conseil :  toudis  trage."    Chastellain,  p.  509. 
en  soin  d'aucun  grand  cas,  ou  en        '"  liamarche,  torn.  ii.  p.  48'<. — 

finances,  ou  eu  faict  de  guerre,  ou  en  Chastellain,  pp.  449,  509. 

VOL.  I.         eo  » 


f 


514 


HIS  EIGOROUS  JUSTICE. 


[book  II. 


III! 


r 


'4 


were  to  be  defrayed  by  the  revenues  of  his  domain, 
and  his  other  ordinary  expenses  by  the  grants  of  his 
Flemish  subjects.  Already  he  had  made  demands 
upon  the  Estates  more  onerous  than  the  boldest  of 
his  predecessors  had  ever  ventured  to  propose ;  and 
the  murmurs  of  the  deputies  were  overborne  by  his 
inflexible  wUl  and  the  impression  which  had  been 
produced  by  his  late  victories  over  a  mutinous  peo- 
ple.'^* 

In  his  administration  of  the  affairs  of  justice  he 
showed  the  same  diligence,  the  same  zeal  for  reform, 
the  same  inflexibility  of  purpose.  The  states  over 
which  he  ruled  were  neither  cemented  together  by 
any  of  the  elements  of  national  unity,  nor  even  con- 
nected  by  a  federative  bond.  They  acknowledged, 
under  different  titles,  the  sway  of  a  common  sove- 
reign. In  all  other  respects  they  were  independent 
of  each  other,  having  no  common  system  of  legisla- 
tion, no  court  exercising  jurisdiction  over  the  whole, 
no  magistrate  or  other  civil  officer  whose  act  or  war- 
rant was  valid  beyond  the  limits  of  a  single  province. 
Thc-re  was  not  even  any  treaty  providing  for  the  cap-  'j 
ture  and'  surrender  of  escaped  criminals.  Flight  was 
therefore  the  obvious  and  almost  certain  means  of 
evading  punishment;  the  authorities  contented  them- 
selves with  pronouncing  sentence  of  outlawry  and 
banishment;  and  exile's  were  to  be  found  in  every 
part  of  the  duke's  dominions,  who,  on  the  easy  terms 
of  a  change  of  residence,  and  that  from  no  distant 

'*  See  Gachard,  Doc.  Indd.,  torn.  i.  p.  189,  et  seq.,  and  Chastellain, 
p.  460. 


[book  II. 

;s  of  his  domain, 
the  grants  of  his 
made  demands 
n  the  boldest  of 
to  propose;  and 
overborne  by  his 
which  had  been 
a  mutinous  pec- 
airs  of  justice  he 
lg  zeal  for  reform,  , 

The  states  over 
2nted  together  by 
lity,  nor  even  con- 
ley  acknowledged, 
,f  a  common  sove- 
were  independent 
system  of  legisla- 
in  over  the  whole, 
whose  act  or  war- 
a  single  province, 
•viding  for  the  cap- 
inals.     Flight  was 
certain  means  of 
es  contented  thcm- 
of  outlawry  and 
|be  found  in  every 
I  on  the  easy  terms 
lat  from  no  distant 

et  8eq.,  and  ChaBtellain, 


CHAP,  in.] 


7iIS  RIGOROUS  JUSTICE. 


515 


quarter,  had  purchased  immunity  for  a  long  career 
of  crime."  This  state  of  things  Charles  refused  to 
tolerate.  While  he  looked  forward  to  more  radical 
changes  in  the  future,  he  applied  at  present  a  simple 
and  efficacious  remedy,  which,  though  it  violated  the 
provincial  charters,  seems  to  have  encountered  no 
opposition.  He  gave  to  his  provost-marshals  —  offi- 
cers accustomed  to  the  severe  and  summary  pro- 
cedures of  martial  law  —  commissions  authorizing 
them  to  pur^sue  and  apprehend  fugitives  from  justice 
wherever  they  had  taken  refuge.  Along  the  French 
frontier  —  the  common  haunt  of  thieves,  gipsies,  dis- 
banded troopers,  and  vagrants  of  every  description  — 
the  ordinary  forms  of  law  were  superseded  by  a  more 
arbitrary  code ;  and  tl^e  zealous  functionaries  intrust- 
ed with  its  execution  administered  cord  and  sack  at 
their  mere  discretion.^'  This  was  the  same  system 
which  had  worked  so  admirably  in  France,  and  which 
had  made  the  name  of  Tristan  I'Hermite  a  word  of 
terror,  not  only  on  every  highway,  but  in  the  most 
secluded  nooks.  What  made  a  still  stronger  impres- 
sion on  the  duke's  subjects  was  his  impartial  severity 
towards  offenders  of  the  highest  rank.  A  nobleman 
of  Hainault,  —  an  illegitimate  member  of  the  house 
of  Conde,  —  who,  in  revenge  for  some  slight  indig- 
nity, had  slain  a  man  of  inferior  birth,  and  who,  had 
Charles  himself  not  interposed,  would  have  been  suf- 
fered to  remain  at  large,  was  arrested,  brought  to 
Bruges,  and  sentenced  to  death.    Neither  his  own 

"  Lamarche,  torn.  ii.  p.  484. 

"  Cbastellain,  pp.  448,  469.  —  Lamarche,  ubi  supra. 


^^^.0 


ill;  I 'I  111 


516 


ms  RiGORoirs  jtjsticb. 


[book  n. 


i 


distinguished  services  in  the  field,  the  supplications 
of  his  powerful  friends,  the  remonstrances  of  his  order, 
nor  the  universal  sentiment  in  his  favor  availed  to 
extort  pardon  or  reprieve ;  they  served  only  to  set 
in  a  stronger  light  the  purpose  and  the  character  of 
his  judge.  Young  and  of  comely  aspect,  with  beau- 
tiful blond  locks  hanging  adown  liis  shoulders,  and 
dressed  in  his  bravest  suit,  "as  if  going  to  a  bridal,"  the 
culprit,  as  he  passed  in  a  cart  to  the  place  of  execu- 
tion, through  streets  where  his  proud  glance  and 
prancing  steed  had  often  won  for  him  the  admiration 
of  the  crowd,  was  regarded  by  the  citizens  with  looks 
of  wonder  and  commiseration,  and  followed  by  a  troop 
of  maidens  pleading  clamorously  for  the  observance 
of  an  old  custom  which  penpitted  a  marriage-knot 
tied  at  the  gallows  to  rescue  a  doomed  neck  from 
the  halter.'® 


'"  Chastellain,  pp.  4r}0^63.— An- 
other story  exemplifying  Charles's 
sternness  and  impartial  justice,  as 
•well  as  his  peculiar  r^ard  for  female 
honor,  is  related  by  Meyer,  Pontus 
HeMterus,  and  other  writers,  and 
forms  the  subject  of  one  of  Steele's 
"  Spectators."  'Ryncault,  governor 
of  Flushing,  being  enamoured  of  a 
married  woman  of  that  place,  and 
meeting  with  no  encouragement  in 
his  unlawful  suit,  trumped  up  a 
charge  of  sedition  against  the  hus- 
band, and  had  him  condemned  to 
death.  The  wife  consented  to  pur- 
chase his  life  by  the  sacrifice  of 
her  virtue ;  but  in  the  mean  time 
the  sentence  had  been  secretly  car- 
ried into  effect.    Thus  doubly  be- 


trayed, the  wretched  widow  availed 
herself  of  the  duke's  arrival  in  Zea- 
land to  fling  herself  at  his  feet  and 
acquaint  him  with  her  wrongs.  The 
appeal  was  even  more  effectual  than 
she  had  expected  or  desired.  As 
the  only  possible  r^pare  "on,  Charles 
compelled  her  seducer  to  marry  her 
and  to  settle  his  property  upon  her 
by  will.  But  the  outraged  majesty 
of  the  law  still  remained  to  be  vin- 
dicated ;  and  Ryncault,  hanng  been 
carried  from  the  altai*  to  the  scaffold. 
was  immediately  beheaded.  This 
romantic  tale  rests,  however,  on  no 
contemporary  authority.  Lord  Ma- 
caulay,  who  alludes  to  it,  rejects,  on 
the  same  grounds,  the  similar  ston 
told  of  General  Kirke. 


>  Fbook  n. 

the  supplications 
mces  of  Uis  order, 
favor  availed  to 
;rved  only  to  set 
I  the  character  of 
ispect,  with  boau- 
113  shoulders,  and 
ng  to  a  bridal,"  the 
tie  place  of  exceu- 
proud  glance  and 
lim  the  admiration  , 
citizens  with  looks 
followed  by  a  troop 
for  the  observance 
id  a  marriage-knot 
doomed  neck  from 


le  wretched  widow  availed 
f  the  duke's  arrival  in  Zea- 

ing  herself  at  his  feet  and 
him  with  her  wrongs.  The 
as  even  more  effectual  than 

expected  or  desired.  As 
possible  r^para  on,  Chaijes 
d  her  seducer  to  marry  her 
ettle  his  property  upon  her 

But  the  outraged  majcst) 
aw  still  remained  to  be  vin- 

and  Ryncault,hanng  been 
Vomthealtai-tothescaffoW. 
mediately  beheaded.  Thi? 
c  tale  rests,  however,  on  no 
wrary  authority.  Lord  Ma- 
who  alludes  to  it,  rejects,  on 

le  grounds,  the  similar  story 
General  Kirke. 


CHAP,  ni.] 


COMP^iAINTS  OF  IHS  VASSALS. 


517 


There  was  much  in  Charles's  character,  and  in  the 
line  of  conduct  he  had  adopted,  that  could  not  fail  to 
breed  feelings  of  discontent  among  his  vassals.  Re- 
proaches, in  some  respects  not  unlike  those  which 
had  assailed  the  French  monarch  at  the  commence- 
ment of  his  reign,  were  now  directed,  though  in  a 
lower  tone,  against  the  sovereign  of  the  Netherlands. 
It  was  thought  unworthy  of  a  great  prince  to  impose 
on  himself  and  on  his  ministers  a  drudgery  so  oner- 
ous and  incessant ;  to  give  so  large  a  portion  of  his 
time,  and  so  close  an  attention,  to  the  minute  details 
of  his  affairs ;  to  practise  so  stringent  an  economy, 
and  to  hoard  the  revenues  which  flowed  into  his 
excliequer,  instead  of  distributing  guerdons  among 
his  faithful  lieges,  and  lightening  their  toils  by  fre- 
quent shows  and  festive  entertainments ;  to  forget  so 
often,  in  the  sallies  of  passion,  the  courtesy'-  due  to 
men  of  noble  birth ;  to  deal  so  rigorously  with  the 
faults,  and  to  pay  so  small  a  regard  to  the  customary 
immunities,  of  that  class  of  his  subjects  on  whose 
fidelity  and  loyal  attachment  to  his  person  he  must 
place  h' '  chief  reliance.*''  A  more  general  sentiment 
of  nlarm  was  awakened  by  the  force  and  tenacity  of 
his  ambitious  instincts,  evidenced  in  his  arbitrary 
mode  of  government  and  in  his  apparent  fondness 


"  ChastelMn  is  too  deeply  imbued 
with  the  sentiments  common  to  his 
class  to  treat  their  complaints  on  tliis 
topic  lightly,  while  his  loyal  affection 
and  reverence  for  the  house  of  Bur- 
gundy lead  him  to  offer  many  apol- 
ogies for  Charlef).    In  answer  to  the 


charge  of  parsimony,  so  often  alleged 
against  the  duke,  his  advocate  asserts 
that  by  nature  L-^  was  most  liberal, 
delighting  in  benefactions,  and  "  g^iv- 
ing  with  Iwth  hands  "  until  constrain- 
ed by  the  difficulties  that  beset  him 
to  put  a  curb  upon  his  generosity. 


<i  111 

'I' 
•It 


f.l'l      (H 


1  1     1 


31    'S 


518 


COMPLAINTS  OF  HIS  VASSALS. 


[book  n. 


hi 


■I , 

r'  i 
t 


(■'.  V  f 


Ml 


^11 4 


;"»■ ) 
li  h 

I 


for  war,  foreboding  peril  and  exhaustion  to  a  people 
long  accustomed  to  tranquillity  and  ease.  Some  of 
these  complaints  found  utterance  in  a  chapter  of  the 
Golden  Fleece  held  at  Bruges  in  May,  1468,  the  first 
which  had  been  assembled  since  Philip's  death,  or, 
indeed,  for  several  years.  In  accordance  with  the 
rules  of  their  order,  the  knights,  passing  in  review 
tlie  conduct  and  known  habits  of  every  member,  cen- 
sured whatever  seemed  a  deviation  from  the  manners 
and  sentiments  of  chivalry.  Charles,  when  it  came 
to  his  turn  to  be  thus  lectured,  listened,  as  became 
his  position,  with  exemplary  deference  to  the  repre- 
sentations that  were  made  to  him.'^  But  how  vain  to 
expect  that  such  remonstrances  would  leave  any  last- 
ing impression  on  a  mind  so  ardent  and  persistent  — 
all  whose  impulses  were  directed  by  a  single  master 
passion,  and  that  passion  continually  stimulated  by 
the  circumstances  of  the  times,  by  the  temptations 
and  by  the  necessities  of  his  situation !  The  great 
feudatories  of  the  French  crown,  however  strenuously 
they  might  oppose  the  innovations  of  the  king,  were 
naturally  led,  by  the  same  desire  for  pow  /  as  ani- 
mated him,  to  attempt  similar  innovations  in  the 
government  of  their  own  states.  The  greater  their 
success  in  emancipating  tliemselves  from  his  author- 
ity, the  greater  their  efforts  to  strengthen  their  own 
authority  and  to  abridge  the  rights  of  their  immediate 
vassals.  If  this  was  true  of  all  these  princes,  it  was 
especially  applicable  to  the  sovereign  r^  the  Nether- 
lands. The  dukes  of  Brittany  and  Bourbon  could  never 

"  Reiffenberg,  Hist,  de  la  Toiaon  d'Or,  p.  54. 


T'flMt'l! 


CUAP.  III.] 


TENDENCY  OF  HIS  AMBITION. 


519 


aspire  to  a  condition  of  complete  and  acknowledged 
independence.  Their  dominions  lay  wholly  within 
the  limits  of  the  monarchy.  Their  resources  were 
contracted.  Their  strength  consisted  in  their  union ; 
and  each,  if  standing  alone,  was  powerless  against  the 
coininon  enemy.  The  house  of  Burgundy,  on  the 
contrary,  was  subject  only  in  part  to  the  French 
crown.  Its  possessions  embraced  a  wide  extent  of 
territory.  The  consolidation  of  the  Netherlands  into 
a  single  state  was  a  consummation  to  which  their 
contiguity,  their  past  history,  and  the  ambition  of 
their  rulers  seemed  alike  to  point.  Such  a  state  must 
become  not  merely  independent  of  France,  but  a  rival 
power.  To  this  result  all  circumstances  and  events 
were  tending;  those  which  looked  in  an  opposite 
direction  drifted  with  the  current.  The  free  consti- 
tutions of  the  provinces,  the  long  tranquillity  they 
had  enjoyed,  and  their  ever  increasing  prosperity 
had  provided  the  materials  for  a  great  effort,  and 
laid  the  foundations  on  which  a  great  and  solid  power 
might  well  be  raised.  Philip  the  Good  had  never 
schemed  for  such  an  end ;  but  all  his  conquests  and 
intrigues  must  contribute  to  its  accomplishment. 
Charles  himself  had  formed,  perhaps,  as  yet  no  defi- 
nite projects  of  the  kind;  but  the  course  to  which 
he  was  impelled  by  the  mere  energies  of  his  nature, 
ever  craving  employment  and  rising  jigainst  obstacles, 
would  lead  him,  if  successful,  to  that  and  no  other 
goal.  Charles  differed  from  his  father  not  so  much 
in  opinions  and  ideas  as  in  the  greater  force  and  ac- 
tivity of  his  intellect.    ^^ Autre  n' array"  —  "  I  will  have 


I' ' 


sm 


520 


HIS  IMPLACABILITY. 


[book  II. 


hi'f  ■ 


no  other"  —  had  been  the  motto  of  Philip  —  the 
sentiment  of  a  satisfied  ambition,  of  a  mind  content  to 
repose  upon  its  early  achievements.  Charles  adopted 
as  his  device  the  words  "  Je  Vay  cmprins "  —  "I  have 
undertaken  it."  What  had  he  undertaken?  More 
than  he  yet  knew,  more  than  his  imagination  had 
embodied  in  a  tangible  form,  more  than  his  continual 
labors,  his  energies,  his  life,  would  suffice  to  realize.'" 
The  darkest  features  of  Charles's  character  were 
the  pertinacity  and  sombre  depth  of  his  vindictive 
feelings.  He  had  revived,  at  the  chapter  of  the 
Golden  Fleece  already  mentioned,  the  infamous  pros- 
ecution of  the  count  of  Nevers  for  having  practised 
against  his  life  by  diabolical  arts.  Nevers,  too  pru- 
dent to  confront  his  powerful  accuser,  contented 
himself,  when  summoned  to  appear,  with  sending 
back  the  insignia  of  the  order.  This  did  not  prevent 
sentence  of  degradation  being  passed  on  him ;  and, 
in  the  full  assembly  of  the  knights,  his  arms  were 
erased  and  an  escutcheon  painted  black  was  placed 
by  the  king-at-arms  above  his  vacant  chair.^"  Nor 
was  there  any  greater  show  of  magnanimity  in  the 
treatment  which,  on  this  same  occasion,  his  old  cne- 


'®  "II  taschoit  Ji  tant  de  choses 
grandes,  qu'il  n'avoit  point  le  temps 
k  vivre  pour  les  mettre  Ji  fin ;  et  es- 
toient  choses  presque  impossibles." 
Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  229. 

'"  IleiflFenberg,  Hist,  de  la  Toison' 
d'Or.  —  Chastellain,  p.  45L  —  Chas- 
tellain  rejjreseuts  Nevers  as  losing 
caste  in  consequence  of  this  disgrace, 
as  shunned  by  men  of  rank  and  hon- 
or, abandoned  by  his  former  friends, 


and  tortured  by  the  anguish  of  his 
own  reflections.*  ("  Certes,  bien  de- 
voit  avoir  le  cuer  estraint  d'angoisse 
et  de  dur  anuy  en  cestui  temps,  qui 
aux  plus  sages  et  aux  plus  vertueux, 
cstoit  estrange  et  sauvaige."  p.  404.) 
We  may  suspect  that  the  noble  chron- 
icler attributed  to  ethers  a  keener 
sense  of  such  indignities  than  be- 
longed to  any  breast  besides  his 
own. 


Sjii,:  iiif  -■    Jii,  j',;^ 


L^l^':" 


OBAP.  m.] 


RETURN  OF  THE  <JROYS. 


521 


mies,  tlie  Croys,  experienced  at  the  duke's  hands. 
Immediately  after  Phih'p's  death  the  brothers  had 
addressed  a  letter,  couched  in  the  most  submissive 
terms,  to  his  successor,  praying  that  they  might  be 
reinstated  in  his  grace,  and  professing  their  de.sire  to 
render  him  faithful  and  loyal  service."*  They  now 
boldly  presented  themselves  in  person  before  the 
chapter  of  the  Golden  Fleece,  and  demanded  a  trial 
by  their  peers  on  the  accusations  which,  several  years 
before,  had  been  brought  against  them  by  Charles. 
They  were  informed,  in  reply,  that  these  accusations 
amounted  to  a  charge  of  treason,  and  that,  by  the 
statutes  of  the  order  the  knights  being  precluded 
from  taking  cognizance  of  such  an  offence,  it  rested 
with  the  sovereign  alone  to  determine  the  manner 
of  their  trial.^"  They  were  permitted,  however,  to 
choose  between  submitting  their  cause  to  a  tribunal 
of  his  appointment  and  withdrawing  from  his  domin- 
ions. Their  election  was  speedily  made.  Daunted 
by  the  threatening  aspect  of  the  affair,  they  hastily 
quitted  Bruges  and  returned  into  exile.  Five  years 
later  Antony  de  Croy,  then  nearly  ninety  years  of 
age,  again  appeared  before  the  duke,  and,  prostrating 
himself  at  his  feet,  addressed  to  him,  in  humble  and 
broken  tones,  a  supplication  for  pardon.  The  nobles 
of  the  court  unanimously  joined  in  the  request. 
Charles,  seldom  gracious  even  in  acts  of  mercy,  after 

*'  Gachard,  Doc.  Incd.,  torn.  i.    the  demand  of  the  Counts  Epnont 
p.  152.  and  Hoora  to  be  tried  by  the  Toi- 

"  Tliia  was  the  chief  precedent    son  d'Or. 
cited  by  Alva,  in  1568,  in  rejecting 
VOL.  I.  66* 


m 


l:\ 


i  m 
[  '1, 


!i|l!?:!fj!W: 


pi 


522 


CIIABLES'S  SECOND  MABRIAOE. 


[boos  II. 


■  1 

1 

1         t"m 

i-     '  n 

.1 

!,-,a 

ti 


p;  :  ■„:■  1 


M 


'tm, 


some  henitation,  yielded  a  cold  forgiveness.  The  fam- 
ily was  .soon  after  reinstated  in  its  possessions.  In 
time  it  was  restored  to  many  of  its  former  honors ; 
and  Olio  of  its  branches  was  invested  with  higher 
rank  than  belonged  to  any  other  noble  house  in  the 
Netherlands.  Its  members,  indeed,  seemed  to  have 
a  peculiar  faculty  For  establishing  the  most  intimate 
personal  relations  with  their  sovereigns.  During  the 
first  quarter  of  the  sixteenth  century  they  occupied 
their  <jld  position  at  the  Belgian  court ;  and  the  Cele- 
brated William  de  Croy,  lord  of  Chi(ivres,  maintained 
the  same  ascendancy  over  the  minority  of  Charles 
the  Fifth  as  Antony  had  maintained  over  the  dotage 
of  Philip  the  Good.^ 

Before  his  departure  from  Bruges,  on  a  tour  through 
the  northern  provinces,  the  first  year  of  Charles's 
reign  had  ended,  —  the  prescribed  period  of  mourn- 
ing for  his  predecessor,  —  and  the  time  had  arrived 
for  the  solemnization  of  his  marriage  with  the  Prin- 
cess Margaret  of  York.  Regarding  this  alliance,  in 
its  political  aspect,  as  a  triumph  over  the  machina- 
tions of  the  French  king,  he  proposed  to  celebrate 
the  event  with  more  than  wonted  splendor.  For 
several  months  the  town  had  been  a  scene  of  active 
preparations  for  the  nuptial  fete.  The  looms  had 
been  driven  at  their  highest  speed ;  the  shops  had 
displayed  their  choicest  fabrics;  crowds  of  workpeople 
of  every  description  had  been  employed  about  the 
palace ;   and   painters   and   other   artists   skilful   in 

"  Gachard,  Notice  des  Archives    seq.  —  Reiffenberg,  Hist,  dc  la  Toi- 
de  M.  le  Due  de  Caraman,  p.  115,  et    son  d'Or,  pp.  45,  46,  et  al. 


OHAF.  III.] 


NUPTIAL  FESTIVinES. 


623 


decoration  had  been  assembled  lioui  all  parts  of  the 
country.'^* 

Margaret  took  leave  of  her  brother's  court  a})out 
the  middle  of  June,  and  "  rode  thurgli  oute  Ijondon 
behynde  the  erle  of  Warwicke,'"'*  who  still  kept  up 
a  show  of  friendly  relations  with  Edward—  t.virl- 
ing  between  his  fingers  the  white  rose  which  he  had 
taken  from  his  bosom,  ere  he  threw  it  in  the  dust 
and  trampled  on  it.  She  was  accompanied  in  her 
embarkation  by  the  Lord  Scales  and  a  gallant  troop 
of  knights  and  gentlemen,  ;.nd  by  more  than  four- 
score ladies  of  rank,  including  the  duchess  of  Norfolk 
and  other  fair  representatives  of  the  great  nobility. 
A  fleet  of  sixteen  vessels,  commanded  by  the  lord 
admiral  of  England,  conveyed  the  princess  and  her 
attendants  to  the  Flemish  port  of  Sluys,  where  she 
was  received  and  conducted  to  her  lodgings  by  a 
number  of  the  most  distinguis'ied  nobles  appointed 
to  serve  as  her  escort.  She  was  immediately  waited 
upon  by  the  Duchess  Isabella  and  the  youthful  heir- 
ess of  the  Burgundian  states,  and,  on  the  evening  of 
the  following  day,  received  a  private  visit  from  the 
duke,  when  vows  of  betrothal  were  formally  ex- 
changed.    At  Bruges,  meanwhile,  the  citizens  cele- 


■\'P 


iM'^ 


.m 


,i.I'i'  II:     :! 


m 

M  'i,  M 


'*  Compte  des  ouvrages  et  aussi 
des  entrcmetz  et  paintures  faicts  Ji 
IJruges,  aux  nopces  de  MS  le  Due 
Charles,  Laborde,  Dues  de  Bour- 
gogne,  Preuves,  torn.  ii.  p.  293-381. 
See  also  Michiels,  Hist,  de  la  Pein- 
ture  flamande  et  hoUandaise,  torn,  ii., 
and  Annales  de  la  Soc.  d'Emulation 
de  la  Flandre,  torn.  iii. 


*>  Hearne,  Fragment,  p.  296.  — 
She  rode  on  the  same  horse  with 
him,  according  to  the  fashion  of  that 
time.  See  the  contemporary  Fing- 
lish  account  of  the  nuptials  printed 
in  the  Excerpta  Hiatorica,  (London, 
1831.) 


Wi 


m 


:^ 


■.  !.- 


524 


NUPTIAL  FESTIVITIES. 


[book  II. 


brated  her  coming  by  huge  pyramidal  bonfires,  forty 
feet  high,  which  throughout  the  night  lighted  up  the 
quaint,  but  beautiful  and  varied,  architecture  of  their 
streets. 

After  a  v^sek  spent  by  Margaret  and  her  company 
at  Sluys,  they  were  conducted  in  barges,  by  the  slow 
navigation  of  the  canal,  to  Damme,  a  small  town  in 
the  immediate  vicinity  of  Bruges.  Early  on  the  next 
morning,  (Sunday,  July  3,)  Charles,  accompanie(\  by 
only  five  or  six  of  his  principal  nobles,  arrived  at  her 
lodgings ;  and  the  marriage  ceremony  was  performed 
by  the  bishop  of  Salisbury,  assisted  by  a  papal  legate. 
The  duke  returned  immediately,  and  with  the  same 
privacy,  to  his  palace.  The  pageantry  and  ceremony 
of  the  day  were  reserved  for  his  bride.  A  procession 
awaited  h^r  at  the  gate  of  ^ainte-Croix,  composed  of 
what  was  fittest  to  represent  the  splendor  of  such  a 
court  and  tl;e  wealth  of  such  a  town  —  the  prelates 
and  other  ecclesiastics,  in  surplice  and  stole,  carrying 
crucifixes  and  costly  reliquaries;  the  municipal  au- 
thorities, in  their  gowns  and  chains  of  office;  the 
members  of  the  ducal  household,  the  meaner  sort  in 
liveries  of  black  and  violet,  the  higher  functionaries 
in  long  mantles  of  black  velvet  and  purpoints  of 
crimson  satin ;  bands  of  clarions  and  trumpets ;  troops 
of  archers  in  showy  uniforms ;  heralds,  pursuivants, 
and  kings-at-arms  in  coats  of  blazonry ;  the  nobles  in 
every  variety  of  rich  costume,  the  trappings  of  their 
horses  glittering  with  gold  and  gems  and  fringed  with 
silver  bells;  and  the  "nations,"  or  foreign  trading  com- 
panies, among  whom  the  Venetians,  the  Florentines, 


CHAP.  UI.] 


NUPTIAL  FESTIVITIES. 


525 


and  the  Easterlings  were  conspicuous  by  their  number 
and  the  splendor  of  their  retinues  and  equipments. 

The  bridal  litter,  covered  with  cloth  of  gold,  and 
drawn  by  horses  caparisoned  with  the  same  material, 
took  its  place  in  the  centre  of  this  cortege.  The  prin- 
cess, attired  in  cloth  of  silver,  wore  on  her  head  a 
crown  girt  with  diamonds,  above  which  she  had  placed 
with  her  own  hands  a  simple  chaplet  of  roses,  pre- 
sented to  her  by  nuns  at  her  entrance  into  the  town. 
Her  countenance  was  pleasing ;  her  deportment  gra- 
cious and  serene.  A  small  troop  of  archers,  in  the 
uniform  of  the  English  body-guard,  marched  in  front 
of  her  litter ;  the  knights  of  the  Toison,  in  their  ma- 
jestic robes,  walked  on  either  side.  Behind  came  the 
ladies  of  her  suite — the  younger  and  unmarried  ones 
on  snow-white  palfreys,  the  others  in  gaudy  chariots 
emblazoned  with  the  arms  of  England  and  of  Bur- 
gundy. The  streets  were  hung  with  silken  tapestries 
and  cloth  of  gold,  and  crossed  by  triumphal  arches, 
from  which,  as  the  princess  passed  beneath,  white 
doves  were  let  loose,  that  circled  round  her  head  and 
settled  on  the  poles  of  her  litter.  At  different  points 
along  the  road  she  was  entertained  with  "  Histories  " 
—  a  kind  of  dramatic  representation,  in  which  the 
poet,  generally  with  good  reason,  was  forced  to  follow 
the  inspirations  of  the  machinist;  and  the  walls  in 
front  of  the  palace  were  covered  with  heraldic  paint- 
ings and  devices,  emblematical  of  the  power  and 
grandeur  of  the  two  sovereigns  now  united  by  so 
close  a  tie.'^"      ..  .       , 


**  Lamarche,  torn.  ii.  pp.  299-311.  —  Haynin,  torn.  i.  p,  106,  et  seq.— 


Ill 

Ji 


li'i 
i 


.5 


ii  !  '.,\> 


>       I 


y^^ii 


1 .14 , 


526 


NUPTIAL  FESTlViTlES. 


[book   II, 


An  interval  of  several  hours  was  granted  for  re- 
freshment and  repose.  Meanwhile  the  citizens,  who 
had  gazed  on  these  familiar  splendors  with  unsated 
eyes,  now  began  to  throng  the  avenues  leading  to 
the  great  square,  where  a  passage  of  arms  had  been 
proclaimed,  which  the  Great  Bastard  of  Burgundy 
was  to  maintain  against  all  comers.  The  windows 
and  roofs  of  the  surrounding  houses,  as  well  as  the 
stagings  erected  at  different  points  for  their  better 
accommodation,  were  soon  occupied  by  the  crowd. 
The  balconies  in  front  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville  were  re- 
served for  the  ladies  of  the  court.  A  platform  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  square  was  the  station  appointed 
for  the  judges,  the  marshals  and  pursuivants,  and 
other  officers  of  the  lists ;  and  beside  it  stood  a  lofty 
pine-tree,  yrith  gilded  trunk,  indicating  that  the  noble 
challenger  had  given  to  lus  emprise  the  title  of  the 
"  Tree  of  Gold."  At  one  end  of  the  arena  an  arched 
gateway,  flanked  with  towers  gorgeously  painted  and 
adorned,  and  defended  by  a  movable  barrier,  present- 
ed means  of  access  to  the  contending  knights.  All 
the  other  approaches  were  strictly  closed.  Tapestries 
and  silken  banners  waved  from  every  wall;  and  a 
scene  of  profuse  brilliancy  awaited  the  gaze  of  the 
princess,  whose  coming  was  announced  by  a  strain 
of  martial  music,  soon  drowned  amid  the  swelling 
shouts  of  the  vast  concourse  of  spectators. 

The  Mariage  of  the  Ryght  high'  and  torica,  pp.  227-248.  —  Meyer,  fol. 

myghty  Prince  the  Due  of  Burgoigne  344.  —  Bariandus,  De  Carolo  Bur- 

\nth  the  Right  high  and  excellent  gundo.  —  Gollut,  col.  1225. 
Princcsse  Margarett,  Excerpta  His- 


tv'i  'a 


0HA7.  III.] 


NUPTIAL  FESTIVITIES. 


527 


A  flourish, of  trumpets  was  now  heard  from  the 
gate ;  and  a  herald  on  the  outside,  approaching  the 
barrier,  gave  notice  that  a  high  and  puissant  lord, 
desirous  of  accomplishing  the  adventure  of  the 
Golden  Tree,  demanded  entrance.  The  blazon  of 
arms  which  he  presented  was  that  of  Adolphus  of 
Cleves,  lord  of  Ravenstein.  The  barrier  was  thrown 
open ;  and  a  band  of  drums  and  clarions  led  the  way, 
followed  by  heralds  and  pursuivants,  and  by  a  sump- 
tuous litter  drawn  by  a  pair  of  black  horses  of  great 
size  and  beauty,  with  housings  of  blue  velvet  and 
embroidered  ^old.  The  musicians,  pages,  and  other 
attendants  wore  dresses  of  the  same  color  and  mate- 
rial ;  and  the  knight  himself,  who  reclined  upon  the 
cushions  of  the  litter,  feigning  debility  and  age,  was 
attired  in  a  suit  of  tawny  velvet,  trimmed  with  er- 
mine, with  slashes  in  the  sleeves  affording  glimpses 
of  tlie  armor  which  he  wore  beneath.  His  destrier, 
caparisoned  in  cloth  of  gold  fringed  with  silver  bells, 
was  led  behind  the  litter,  and  was  followed  by  two 
other  horses  carrying  the  harness  in  which  he  was 
presently  to  be  equipped.  Having  paid  his  obei- 
sance to  the  judges  of  the  contest  and  the  ladies  in 
the  balcony,  to  whom  he  excused  himself,  on  account 
of  his  infirmities,  for  attempting  this  his  last  exploit 
in  arms,  the  knight  retired  by  a  side  door  to  prepare 
himself  for  the  combat. 

A  loud  burst  of  clarions  now  announced  the  ap- 
proach of  the  challenger;  and,  the  barrier  being  again 
opened,  a  pavilion  of  yellow  silk,  embroidered  all  over 
with  the  Tree  of  Gold  and  other  armorial  devices,  and 


■  r.'^'i 


'f  IG 


4l 


m 


In  ■. 


i:^ 


Iff  -  s  -. 


'.(' 


528 


NUPTIAL  FESTIVmES. 


[book  n. 


surmounted  by  a  splendid  banner,  entered,  without 
any  visible  means  of  motion,  and,  gliding  over  the 
ground,  took  its  station  at  the  further  end  of  the  lists. 
It  opened  in  the  middle;  and  the  Great  Bastard, 
equipped  in  complete  armor  and  mounted  on  a  pow- 
erful steed,  rode  slowly  forth  into  the  arena.  He  was 
hailed  with  acclamations,  the  due  meed  of  so  renowned 
a  knight ;  and.  having  made  the  circuit  of  the  lists 
and  exhibited  his  skill  in  horsemanship,  he  returned 
to  his  post  and  awaited  his  antagonist.  Immediately 
the  lord  of  Ra  venstein  made  his  appearance,  mounted 
and  armed,  his  helmet  on  his  head,  his  shield  sus- 
pended  from  his  neck.  The  squires  presented  the 
lances;  a  blast  from  a  single  horn  gave  the  signal 
for  the  encounter ;  and  the  knights,  setting  spurs  to 
their  hoi;pes,  met  at  full  gallop,  and  shivered  their 
strong  and  heavy  spears  ttgainst  each  other's  armor, 
so  that  the  splinters  flew  far  above  their  heads,  and 
horse  and  rider  reeled  with  the  shock.  Neither  of 
the  combatants,  however,  lost  his  saddle,  and,  amid 
thunders  of  applause,  they  backed  their  steeds  to 
their  former  stations,  and,  receiving  fresh  lances  from 
the  attendants,  ran  a  second  course  with  the  same 
result.  Thus  the  jousts  continued  until  the  sand  with 
which  the  ground  had  been  thickly  strewn  was  tram- 
pled and  dispersed,  and  the  western  sun  no  longer 
cast  its  glory  on  the  polished  steel,  the  silken  ban- 
ners, and  all  the  radiant  scenery  of  the  lists.  The 
signal  horn  gave  notice  that  the  tilting  was  ended 
for  the  day ;  and  the  Knight  of  the  Golden  Tree,  who 
had  broken  more  lancch  than  his  opponent,  being 


\}i 


[book  k. 


CHAP,  in.] 


NUPTIAL  FESTIvmES. 


529 


vithout 

^er  the 

tie  lists. 

Jastard, 

a  pow- 

Ile  was 

nowned 

the  hsts 

returned 

lediately 

mounted 

ield  sus- 

nted  the 

tie  signal 
spurs  to 

red  their 

^'s  armor, 

eads,  and 

either  of 

and,  amid 
steeds  to 
nces  from 
the  same 
sand  with 
was  tram- 
no  longer 
Iken  ban- 
ists.    The 
vas  ended 
Tree,  who 
nt,  being 


proclaimed  the  victor,  the  spectators  rapidly  dis- 
persed. The  populace  wended  their  way  owards 
different  parts  oi  the  town,  where  spectacles  of  a  less 
refined  description  were  provided  for  their  entertain- 
ment, and  fountains  of  Burgundy  and  Rhenish  wine 
played  into  stone  basins  from  which  all  might  drink 
at  pleasure ;  while  the  nobles,  repairing  to  their  quar- 
ters, hastened  to  change  the  heavy  mantles  and  other 
habiliments  which  t^'  y  had  worn  throughout  the  day 
for  garments  of  a  lighter  texture,  more  appropriate 
to  the  festivities  of  the  banqueting-hall.'^^ 

The  building  designed  for  this  purpose  was  a  tem- 
porary structure  erected  in  the  tennis-court  behind 
tlie  palace.  It  was  seventy  feet  in  width,  a  hundred 
and  forty  in  length,  and  more  than  sixty  feet  high. 
The  ceiling  was  richly  painted ;  the  projecting  cor- 
nices were  decorated  with  banners  and  heraldic  em- 
bellishments;  and  the  walls  were  hung  with  the 
celebrated  tapestry  representing  the  adventures  of 
Jason  in  quest  of  the  Golden  Fleece,  and  with  similar 
productions  of  Flemish  ingenuity  and  art.  In  the 
centre  of  the  hall  rose  a  buffet  of  enormous  dimen- 
sions, 8^  pporting  a  prodigious  quantity  of  plate,  of 
which  the  largest,  but  least  costly,  articles  were  piled 
on  the  loAN'er  shelves,  while  goblets  of  embossed  gold, 
studded  with  precious  stones,  and  other  articles  of 
inestimable  value,  were  displayed  in  a  conspicuous 
manner  on  the  summit.  The  apartment  was  light- 
ed by  chandeliers  in  the  form  of  castles  surrounded 
by  forests  and  mountains,  with  revolving  paths,  on 


ill 
11,1 


'i  ■''lit!  11 


VOL.  I. 


67 


*7   Lamarche.  —  Haynin. 


r:\ ; ,  ;*pr  • 


iC 


530 


NUPTIAL  FESTIVmES. 


[book  II. 


which  serpents,  dragons,  and  other- monstrous  animals 
seemed  to  roam  in  search  of  prey,  spouting  forth  jets 
of  flame  that  were  reflected  in  huge  mirrors  so  ar- 
ranged as  to  catch  and  multiply  the  rays.  The  tables 
extended  lengthwise  on  either  side  of  the  hall,  except 
one  reserved  for  the  ducal  family  and  the  guests  of 
highest  rank,  which  crossed  it,  on  a  rjiised  platform,  at 
the  upper  end,  and  was  overhung  by  a  canopy  with 
curtains  descending  to  the  floor,  so  as  to  present  the 
appearance  of  an  open  pavilion.  The  dishes  contain- 
ing the  principal  meats  represented  gayly  painted 
vessels,  seven  feet  long,  completely  rigged,  the  masts 
and  cordage  gilt,  the  sails  and  streamers  of  silk,  each 
floating  in  a  silver  lake  between  shores  of  verdure 
and  enamelled  rocks,  and  attended  by  a  fleet  of  boats 
laden  "W^ith  lemons,,  olives,  and  other  condiments. 
There  were  thirty  of  these  vessels,  and  as  many  huge 
pasties  in  a  castellated  shape  with  banners  waving 
from  their  battlements  and  towers ;  besides  tents  and 
pavilions  for  the  fruit,  jelly-dishes  of  crystal,  supported 
by  figures  of  the  same  material  dispensing  streams  of 
lavender  and  rosewater,  and  an  immense  profusion 
of  gold  and  silver  plate.  The  repast  was  enlivened 
by  interludes,  such  as  were  described  in  a  former 
chapter ;  and  it  was  three  hours  after  midnight  when 
the  company  retired.^* 

The  festivities  were  kept  up  for  more  than  a  week 
with  unabated  splendor  and  vivacity,  each  day  pre- 
senting the  same  general  round  uf  entertainments, 


**  Compte  des  ouvrages,  &c.,  in  Laborde,  ubi 
Excerpta  Historica. 


supra.  —  Lamarche.  — 


^ri.j '-hiJ 


m 


[book  n. 

I  animals 
forth  jets 
rs  so  ar- 
he  tables 
11,  except 
Qfuests  of 
atform,  at 
iiopy  with 
resent  the 
3S  contain- 
[y  paintetl 
,  the  masts 
F  silk,  each 
of  verdure 
;et  of  boats 
;omliments. 
Imany  huge 
ers  waving 
i^s  tents  and 
,  supported 
streams  of 
e  profusion 
3  enlivened 
n  a  former 
tnight  when 


rnAP.  lit,] 


miPTiAL  FES'.  ivrriEs. 


631 


I Lamarche* — 


including  the  tournament,  the  banquet,  and  the  dance, 
but  with  sufficient  change  of  scenery  and  variety  of 
incident  to  stimulate  the  spirits  both  of  actors  and 
spectators.  We  find  one  of  the  English  visitors  writr 
ing  to  his  friends  at  home  that  in  luxury  and  magnif- 
icence no  court  in  Christendom  could  compare  with 
that  of  Burgundy,  which  seemed  to  him  a  living  real- 
ization of  the  stories  he  had  heard  and  read  of  King 
Arthur  and  the  Round  Table.^  Knights  from  almost 
every  part  of  Europe  had  come  to  suspend  their  em- 
blazoned shields  from  the  branches  of  the  Tree  of 
Gold,  and  to  exhibit  their  prowess  and  dexterity  on 
so  fair  an  occasion  for  achieving  honor  and  a  wide 
renown.  On  the  ninth  day  tho  duke  entered  the 
lists  in  person,  jousting  with  the  Sire  de  Ravenstein, 
and  afterwards  taking  part  in  the  general  tourney, 
when  fifty  knights,  ranged  in  two  parties,  contended, 
with  alternate  fortune,  for  victory.  When  their  lances 
were  broken  they  had  recourse  to  their  swords,  the 
points  of  which,  however,  had  been  carefully  blunted ; 
yet,  as  the  combatants  were  dispersed  in  the  melee,  so 
earnest  and  exciting  did  the  conflict  become,  that  no 
heed  was  given  to  the  signal  of  recall,  and  Charles, 
revising  his  visor,  rode  about  the  field,  forcing  his  way 
between  the  knights,  striking  down  their  weapons, 
and  commanding  them  to  desist.  The  banquet  on 
the  same  evening  was  more  sumptuous  than  any  that 
had  preceded  it.  Among  the  decorations  of  the  table 
were  gardens  formed  of  a  mosaic-work  of  rare  and 

**  See  the  letter  of  John  Fasten  the  Younger  from  Bruges,  July  16, 
1468,  in  Fenn's  Faston  Letters. 


wmmM 


:v|f: 

-  iHi   If.'  >J 


* 


■     i  J!  i  I 


532 


NXTPTIAL  FESTlVrriES. 


[book  II. 


u# 


I!     Kf 


I        I 


highly  polished  stones,  inlaid  with  silver,  and  sur- 
rounded with  hedges  made  of  fine  gold.  In  the  centre 
of  each  enclosure  stood  a  tree  of  gold,  with  branches, 
fruit,  and  foliage  exquisitely  wrought  in  imitation  of 
those  of  the  orange,  apple,  pear,  or  other  tree.  Foun- 
tains impregnated  with  various  fragrant  essences  dif- 
fused perfume  through  the  air.  Before  taking  their 
^eats  the  company  moved  in  procession  around  the 
tables,  examining  the  different  marvels.  The  enfrc- 
mets  exhibited  were  of  the  most  grotesque  character. 
The  monstrous  figure  of  a  whale,  sixty  feet  long,  and 
"so  high  that  men  on  horseback,  riding  on  either 
side,  would  have  been  unable  to  see  each  other  across 
the  back,"  made  its  appearance  on  the  floor  of  the 
hall,  imitating  with  its  fins  and  tail  the  motions  of 
swimming,  and  opening  its  huge  mouth,  from  which 
a  troop  of  youths  and  maidens  issued  forth  habited 
in  the  Moorish  costume,  and  danced  to  the  sound  of 
the  tambourine  and  other  instruments,  until  inter- 
rupted in  their  sports  by  giants  armed  with  clubs, 
who  drove  them  back  into  their  strange  retreat.''* 

Tuesday  the  12th  of  July  was  the  last  day  of  the 
festival.  It  was  employed,  however,  by  the  duke 
himself,  as  well  as  by  most  of  the  company,  in  prep- 
arations for  departure.  In  the  evening  the  hall  pre- 
sented a  brilliant  and  animated  appearance.  The 
marshals  and  pursuivants  who  had  performed  the 
service  of  the  lists  went  from  table  to  table  demand- 
ing largesse,  which  was  liberally  bestowed.  Aspirants 
to  heraldic  oflfice  received  the  baptism  of  chivalry; 

*<*  Laborde,  ubi  supra.  —  Lamarche.  —  Excerpta  Historica. 


CHAP.  III.] 


HOSTILE  DEMONSTRATIONS. 


533 


functionaries  who  liad  served  a  certain  term  were 
promoted  to  higher  grades.  The  duke  took  leave  of 
his  distinguished  guests,  distributing  among  them 
costly  tokens  of  his  munificence ;  and  a  sudden  peal 
of  clarions  and  trumpets,  which  echoed  through  the 
hall  and  shook  the  heavy  draperies  of  silk  and  gold, 
gave  notice  that  the  fete^  with  its  attendant  ceremo- 
nies, was  concluded.'* 


i*;»iii! 


We  must  now  turn  our  glance  on  the  ^ition  and 
proceedings  of  the  French  king,  w]  •  w  Hen  compelled 
in  the  previous  winter  to  abandon  h  meditated  as- 
sault upon  the  duke  of  Brittany,  '^d  employed  him- 
self in  scanning  all  the  features  Oi  a  situation  which 
appeared  to  him  to  be  growing  every  day  more  crit- 
ical and  menacing.  He  would  not  allow  himself  to 
visit  his  capital^  or  leave  to  his  subordinates  the  task 
of  observation  on  the  outposts,  but  remained  where 
he  might  perceive  with  his  own  eyes  the  first  indica- 
tions of  a  hostile  movement  —  pacing  backwards  and 
forwards  from  Compiegne  to  Noyon,  from  Noyon  to 
Compiegne,^''  like  a  sentinel  on  his  beat,  and  in  that 
alert  state  of  mind  which  seldom  fails  to  betray  itself 
by  groundless  or  premature  alarms.  His  fears,  how- 
ever, were  far  from  chimerical  Hostile  demonstra- 
tions were  still  continued  on  the  side  of  Burgundy. 


.  :k  ;■  'i 


"  Lamarche.  —  Le  tiers  Mariaige 
de  Monsieur  le  Due  Charles  de  Bour- 
goigne  avec  Margriete  d'lorc,  Hay- 
nin,  torn.  L  pp.  106-132. 

"  "  Changea  propos,  et  retouma 
bastJTement  de  Compiegne  4  Noyon, 


oil  peu  de  temps  paravant  y  avoit 
estd.  .  .  .  Se  tint  par  certain  long 
temps  k  Noyon,  Compiegne,  Chau- 
ny,  et  autres  places  environ."  De 
Troyes,  pp.  75,  76. 


hi 
i  . 


634 


HOSTILE  DEMONSTlLVriiJXS. 


[book  Jl. 


i; 


!i:  ,a' 


\. 


A  treaty  was  negotiated  binding  tho  king  of  England 
to  furnish  a  body  of  troops  to  assist  in  tho  recovery 
of  Normandy,  with  a  stipulation  that  the  strong  places 
in  that  province  still  occupied  by  the  Bretons  should 
be  put  in  his  possession  by  way  of  guaranty  for  the 
payment  of  a  subsidy.'"  Warlike  preparations  to 
carry  this  treaty  into  efiect  were  making  along  the 
southern  coast,  and  it  was  given  out  that  Edward 
would  shortly  take  the  held  in  person.  His  chancel- 
lor opened  Parliament,  in  May,  with  a  long  address, 
dwelling  chiefly  on  the  foreign  policy  of  the  govern- 
ment, its  amity  with  tho  French  princes,  and  espe- 
cially the  close  alliance  it  had  formed  with  the  duke 
of  Burgundy  —  declaring  it  to  be  the  king's  in- 
tention •  to  reconquer  the.  dominions  of  his  ances- 
tors, and  calling  on  the  Commons  for  a  sufficient 
grant  to  enable  him  to  raise  an  army  for  this  pur- 
pose.''* True,  for  every  plot  Louis  had  a  counterplot 
prepared.  Jasper  Tudor,  the  exiled  earl  of  Pembroke^ 
was  to  be  sent  over  to  kindle  an  insurrection  in 
Wales.  Margaret  of  Anjou,  her  still  dauntless  spirit 
inflamed  with  the  prospect  of  vengeance  and  redress, 
was  impatiently  awaiting  at  Harfleur  the  king's  per- 
mission to  embark,  and,  what  was  more  important,  but 
not  so  easily  to  be  obtained,  a  loan  from  his  coffers 
to  defray  the  expenses  of  her  expedition.  The  in- 
fluence and  secret  disaffection  of  the  Nevilles  might 
be'  expected  to  neutralize  in  some  degree  the  efiect 
of  Edward's  appeal  to  the  martial  instincts  of  his 


'*  Morice,  Hist,  de  Bnetagne,  liv.        "*  Excerpta  Historica,  p.  224. 
xiii. — Rymer,  torn.  xi.  p.  615,  et  al.     Sharon  Turner,  voL  iii.  p.  316. 


CHAP,  ui.]  LOUIS  APPEALS  TO  TIIE  NATION. 


535 


nobles  and  the  prejudices  of  his  people.  Liege,  too, 
bruised  and  torpid  as  it  now  lay,  was  to  be  artfully 
etimulated  and  propped  up  to  receive  another  and  a 
final  overthrow ;  and,  if  all  these  projects  for  divert- 
ing or  paralyzing  his  enemies  should  fail,  Louis,  thor- 
oughly equipped  and  prepared  for  war,  might  connnit 
himself  to  the  chances  of  the  field  with  confident 
hopes  of  being  able  to  make  good  his  defence. 

But  this  alternative,  prepared  for  it  though  he  was, 
he  could  not  regard  without  anxiety  and  dread.  He 
had  taken  infinite  pains  and  shown  infinite  dexterity 
in  amassing  and  uniting  means  and  agencies  where- 
with to  act;  but  he  hesitated  to  put  them  to  the 
proof  The  threads  woven  by  intrigue  snap  in  the 
heavy  and  sultry  atmosphere  of  an  approaching 
storm.  What  was  wanting  was  a  moral  cohesion  — 
a  national  sentiment  binding  the  people  in  support 
of  his  cause.  Louis  had  least  of  all  men  the  natural 
qualities  that  kindle  such  a  sentiment;  but  he  saw  the 
necessity  for  its  existence,  and  he  applied  himself  to 
the  task  of  creating  it.  He  called  together  [April, 
the  Estates  of  his  realm,  and,  having  first,  p-o  ^^^^-3 
forma,  allowed  his  chancellor  to  open  the  proceedings 
with  one  of  those  prolix  and  pedantical  harangues 
with  whicli  the  worthy  Juvenal  was  accustomed  to 
afflict  his  hearers,**  he  next,  in  a  clear  and  masterly 
oration  fi'om  his  own  lips,  exposed  the  embarrass- 
ments under  which  he  labored.  He  explained,  the 
reasons  why  Normandy  should  remain  forever  united 
with  the  domains  of  the  crown ;  but,  modestly  admit- 

*•  DucloB,  tom:iu.,  Preuves,  pp.  233-248. 


if' 


]■'  • 


536 


HOSHLE  DEMOXSTUA'nONS. 


[book  II. 


:*/'i 


>       I 


ting  his  own  dcficiencioH  of  judgment,  he  left  it  to 
the  Entatcs  to  determine  whether  these  reasons  were 
sufficient,  or  what  furtlier  sacrifices  he  should  make 
for  the  purpose  of  contenting  his  brother  and  the 
other  princes  of  his  family.  "  The  matter  was  one 
which  concerned  the  universal  weal  and  the  pcrpchiUi/ 
of  the  kingdom,  and  not  the  mere  interests  of  the 
king,  who,  being  mortal,  had  but  a  temporary  fee  in 
the  dominions  over  which  he  ruled." **  The  assembly 
was  not  unmoved  by  this  frank  and  forcible  state- 
ment. It  was  the  first  occasion  on  which  a  French 
monarch  had  of  his  free  will  summoned  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  different  classes  of  his  subjects,  with 
the  intent  of  submitting  his  measures  for  their  delib- 
eration and  advice.  Had  the  precedent  been  more 
often  followed,  it  is  probable  that  the  history  of  the 
country  in  later  times  would  have  flowed  in  a  less 
vehement  and  turbid  stream.  Few,  of  course,  of  the 
great  feudatories  were  present ;  but  there  was  a  fair 
attendance  of  the  lesser  nobility,  and  sixty-four  towns 
were  represented  by  twice  that  number  of  deputies. 
It  was  to  his  auditors  of  this  latter  class  that  the 
king's  appeal  was  specially  addressed ;  and  it  Avas  by 
the  members  of  this  boc^y  that  the  response  which 
he  expected  was  made.  It  was  declared  to  be  intol- 
erable that  France  should  be  subjected  to  enormous 
burdens,  and  harassed  by  continual  levies  of  troops, 
for  the  purpose  of  preventing  the  members  of  the 


"  "  Protesta  devant  eux  tous  soi  qu'eile  touchoit  au  bien  universel  de 

estre  insuffisant  ly  de  ly,  et  non  lout  le  royaume,  et  sa  perpetuitc,  et 

ydoine  pour  faire  rien  en  ceste  ma-  ly  n'y  avoit  que  son  voyage."  Chas- 

tere  de  propre  teste,  veu  encore  tellain,  p.  455. 


CHAP.  111.]         LOUIS  APPEALS  TO  TIIE  NATION. 


537 


royal  family  and  other  great  princes,  who  were  CHpe- 
cially  bound  to  protect  the  state,  from  Hying  into 
open  rebellion.  The  whole  evil  had  arisen  from  the 
practice  in  past  times  of  separating  vast  territories 
from  the  direct  authority  of  the  crown,  enabling  the 
possessors  to  usurp  independent  power,  and  thus 
threatening  the  monarchy  "with  disruption.  An  ordi- 
nance of  Charles  the  Wise  had  assigned  an  estate 
yielding  an  income  of  twelve  thousand  livres  as  a 
suitable  appanage  for  a  prince  of  the  blood ;  and  if, 
in  addition  to  such  a  grant,  the  king,  as  he  had  gen- 
erously offered,  should  allow  his  brother  a  pension  of 
sixty  thousand  livres,  Charles  would  have  no  just 
grounds  of  complaint.  "  For  no  cause  under  Heaven 
—  neither  from  fraternal  affection,  nor  the  obligations 
of  a  promise,  nor  fear  or  menace  of  war  —  ought  the 
king  to  commit  the  government  of  Normandy  into 
any  hands  but  his  own."  The  duke  of  Brittany,  by 
fomenting  disturbances  within  the  realm  and  con- 
tracting an  alliance  with  its  foreign  enemies,  had 
forfeited  all  claim  to  be  treated  with  consideration ; 
he  should  be  summoned  to  evacuate  the  places  in 
Normandy  of  which  he  held  an  usurped  possession, 
and,  if  he  refused  to  comply,  should  be  expelled  from 
them  by  force.  In  regard  to  the  duke  of  Burgundy 
the  Estates  did  not  venture  to  use  a  similar  strain 
of  language.  They  recommended  that  that  prince 
should  be  solicited  to  assist  in  the  reestablishment  of 
order;  and  they  appointed  a  committee  from  their 
own  number  to  confer  with  him  on  the  subjoct.^'' 

*^  Chastellain,  pp.  455-457.  —  Lenglet,  torn.  iii.  p.  6,  et  al.  i 

VOL.  I.  68 


W| 

1 

m 

i 

m 

|r 

li 

•;:i| 

jil 

II 

Ill 


It)'  Ml 


r   -f 


1|    !■ 


il#- 


t 
1^     I 

I'     I 


\  >1 


538 


HOSTILE  DEMONSTRATIONS. 


[UOOK  II. 


Somewhat  reassured  by  these  tokens  of  the  sym- 
pathy and  concurrence  of  his  people,  Louis  returned 
to  his  post.  And  it  was  not  long  before  tlie  sparks 
thus  struck  kindled  a  flame  throughout  the  countr}-. 
The  deputies  communicated  to  their  constituents  the 
description  they  had  received  of  the  imperilled  con- 
dition of  the  state,  the  alarhi  entertained  by  the  king, 
and  his  vigilant  and  ceaseless  labors.  A  flood  of  dis- 
cussion was  let  loose ;  and  public  opinion,  though  it 
lacked  a  sufficient  organ  for  its  utterance,  was  yet 
able  to  make  itself  heard.  The  citizens,  more  free- 
spoken  than  the  Estates,  were  clamorous  in  charging 
the  duke  of  Burgundy  as  the  chief  promoter  of  the 
existing  troubles.  "  What,"  it  was  asked,  "  has  his 
house  ever  wrought  but  mischief  to  France?"  All 
the  terrible  calamities  winch  the  country  had  expe- 
rienced in  the  early  part  of  the  century  were  ascribed 
to  tlie  ambition  of  his  father  and  his  grandfather. 
His  own  thirst  for  conquest  was  insatiable.  Why 
was  he  not  content  with  the  wealthy  provinces,  the 
great  towns,  which  had  come  to  him  by  inheritance  ? 
He  had  Ghent  and  Bruges ;  did  he  look  to  have  Paris 
also  ?  He  had  lands  and  lordships  innumerable ;  did 
he  covet  the  sceptre  and  the  crown  ?''*  It  was  time 
that  the  territory  on  the  Somme,  which  he  had  rav- 
ished by  violence  from  the  king,  should  be  torn  from 
his  grasp.  His  alliance  with  Edward,  -his  marriage 
with  an  English  princess,  made  him  the  declared 
enemy  of  France. 

18  i(  Veut-il  avoir  la  coronne  et  le  si  puissant  P  .  .  .  Et  a  son  Gand  ct 
sceptre  en  main,  et  qui  tant  a  de  sonUniges,que  veut-il  P  veut-il  avoir 
seigneuries  et  de  possessions  et  est    encore  Paris  P  "   Chastellain,  p.  477. 


.1  'U.' 


CHAP.  III.]         BURGUNDIAN  CAMP  AT  PilRONNE. 


539 


Charles  confronted  this  storm  of  accusations  and 
menaces  with  his  wonted  air  of  obstinate  defiance. 
As  for  the  towns  of  Picardy,  they  were,  as  he  had 
before  declared,  the  last  of  his  possessions  which  he 
would  willingly  surrender;^*  and  he  doubted  not  that 
his  power  was  sufficient  to  enable  him  to  defend  him- 
self at  all  points.  It  seemed  now  that,  in  the  impend- 
ing struggle,  his  own  safety,  and  not  merely  that  of 
his  allies,  was  at  stake;  and  he  took  his  measures 
accordingly.  He  issued  a  fresh  summons  to  his  vas- 
sals to  equip  themselves  for  the  field;  and  he  ordered 
a  fortified  camp  to  be  formed  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Peronne,  on  the  Somme,  a  position  in  which  he  could 
at  once  maintain  a  menacing  attitude  towards  the 
king  and  secure  his  own  line  of  defence.  His  prep- 
arations were  on  a  more  extensive  scale  than  on  any 
former  occasion.  All  available  means  were  put  in 
requisition  for  the  supply  of  horses,  wagons,  tents, 
artillery,  and  equipments.  In  the  course  of  the  sum- 
mer nearly  three  thousand  pieces  of  cannon  —  most 
of  them,  doubtless,  of  much  smaller  calibre,  and  all, 
from  their  inferior  construction,  of  a  far  less  effective 
description,  than  any  that  are  now  used  in  war  — 
were  carried  forward  by  various  routes  to  the  place 
of  muster.  The  camp,  surrounded  as  usual  by  a  bar- 
rier of  wagons,  with  an  outer  defence  consisting  of 
palisades  and  entrenchments,  was  regularly  laid  out 
in  streets  and  squares,  lined  with  tents  as  well  as  with 

3s  «  Vueil  bicn  qu'il  s(;aiche  que  je  et  seront  toutes  les  derraines  teires 
vouldroie  perdre  la  meilleure  ducie  et  villes  que  je  garderai  pour  moi." 
que  j'aye  ains  que  je  m'en  d^partisse ;    Chastellain,  p.  459. 


Ill 


W-. 


!!9fll 


+!  ?|i' 


I 


:'■  m 


]*r  i 


:l 


540 


HOSTILE  DEMONSTRATIONS. 


[book  u, 


houses  built  of  wood  or  clay,  for  the  accommodation 
not  only  of  the  troops,  but  of  an  imuxense  number 
of  sutlers,  purveyors,  and  travelling  hucksters,  on 
whom,  in  default  of  a  commissariat,  the  armies  of 
that  day  were  accustomed  to  depend  in  great  meas- 
ure for  their  supplies.  Thus  a  fortified  town  seemed 
suddenly  to  have  sprung  into  existence ;  week  after 
week  fresh  levies  made  their  appearance;  and,  towards 
the  end  of  August,  Charles,  who  had  been  employed, 
in  different  quarters,  in  urging  forward  these  prepa- 
rations, arrived  on  the  ground.*" 

Meanwhile  the  king  had  continued  at  Noyon,  on 
the  Oise,  less  than  thirty  miles  off.  But,  while  his 
face  was  still  turned  in  the  same  direction,  his  hands 
were  active  behind  his  back.  He  had  one  immense 
advantage  over  all  his  antagonists  in  the  permanent 
force  originally  established  by  the  famous  ordinances 
of  his  father,  and  since  his  own  accession  greatly  in- 
creased and  more  vigorously  disciplined.  His  artillery 
surpassed  even  that  of  Charles.  The  fortifications  on 
the  frontier  had  been  repaired,  and  every  post  was 
strongly  guarded.  The  allies,  too,  from  the  distances 
by  which  they  were  separated  and  the  obstacles 
which  each  had  to  overcome,  were  unable  to  act  with 
promptitude  or  concert.  Edward  was  hindered  by 
many  difficulties,  as  well  as  by  the  indolence  of  his 
temperament ;  and,  though  six  thousand  archers, 
under  his  brother-in-law,  the  Lord  Scales,  were  ready 

*"  Chastellain,  pp.  466,  469-471,  475,  et  al.  —  Ancien  Chronique,  Len- 
glet,  torn.  ii.  p.  192. 


CRAP,  in.]  STEALTHY  MOVEMENTS  OF  LOUIS. 


541 


to  embark "  it  was  doubtful  whether,  amid  the  pres- 
ent threatenings  of  a  Lancastrian  insurrection,  even 
this  force  would  be  permitted  to  leave  England. 
Louis  therefore  intrusted  the  Sire  de  Beaujeu,  admi- 
ral of  France,  and  Nicholas  of  Anjou,  a  grandson  of 
King  Ren6,  each  with  the  command  of  a  considerable 
body  of  troops,  with  instructions  to  the  former  to 
seize  the  towns  of  Lower  Normandy  where  the  royal 
authority  had  not  been  recognized ;  while  the  latter, 
by  a  rapid  but  stealthy  movement,  was  to  penetrate 
the  frontier  of  Brittany  on  the  south,  and  lay  siege 
to  Ancenis.  These  movements,  executed  discreetly 
and  with  success,  had  the  effect  of  intimidating 
Francis,  who  called  on  his  allies,  and  especially  on 
the  duke  of  Burgundy,  for  immediate  aid.^^  A  short 
truce  was  granted  by  his  assailants  ;*•'  but  they  em- 
ployed the  interval  in  uniting  their  forces,  and,  as 
soon  as  it  had  expired,  operations  were  resumed, 
and  Ancenis  and  Chantonceaux  were  captured.  The 
duke  saw  himself  apparently  deserted  by  his  allies. 
The  Burgundians,  delayed  by  the  very  magnitude  of 
their  preparations,  were  not  yet  ready  to  take  the 
field.  It  is  probable,  also,  that  among  the  advisers 
of  Francis  were  some  who  had  motives  of  their  own 
for  counselling  submission ;  for,  surrounded  by  a  hardy 
and  warlike  population,  he  might  easily  have  pro- 


m 


'I  !' 


*'  Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  138.  —  Sha-  car  U  en  est  temps  et  le  plus  ddlige- 

ron  Turner,  vol.  iii.  p.  317.  ment  que  pourrez  venez,  et  sans  plus 

**  "  Je  vous  prie  sur  tout  I'amour  delay."    Morice,  Preuves,  torn.  iii. 

et  I'alliance  d'entre  vous  et  moy,  qu'a  p.  182. 
ce  besoing  me  venez  secourir ; . . .        *'  Lenglet,  torn.  iii.  p.  8. 


ft*.-.. 


542 


HOSTILE  DEMONSm.vTiONS. 


[book  n. 


rl'M  t 


tracted  his  defence.  But  timidity  or  treachery  pre- 
vailed; and  he  hastened  to  negotiate  a  peace,  by 
which  he  made  a  formal  surrender  of  the  towns  in 
Lower  Normandy,  renounced  the  alliiioce  of  England 
and  of  the  duke  of  Burgundy,  and  pledged  himself 
on  behalf  of  Charles  of  France  that  the  latter  should 
submit  his  claims  to  the  arbitration  of  the  duke  of 
Calabria  and  the  Constable  Saint-Pol.** 

The  treaty  of  Ancenis,  (signed  September  10,)  by 
relieving  the  king  from  one  source  of  embarrassment, 
seemed  to  offer  him  an  opportunity  of  adopting  a 
bold  and  decided  course  of  action  in  a  quarter  where 
he  had  suffered  still  greater  anrtoyance  and  where 
his  power  haJ  so  often  been  U(;fied.  The  popular 
sentiment  was  in  bis  favor,  and  urged  him  to  the 
stroke.  The  army,  through  all  its  ranks,  vibrated 
with  the  same  feeling.  IS^w  was  the  time  to  drive 
the  duke  of  Burgundy  from  the  Somme,  and  compel 
that  insolent  and  haughty  prince  to  acknowledge  the 
supremn;;v  rnd  superior  strength  of  his  rightful  sove- 
reign. N  .1  have  later  critics  failed  to  censure  Louis 
as  exhibiting  on  this  occasion  a  fatal  want  of  courage 
and  determination.  But  such  reproaches  only  indi- 
cate that  a  farsighted  and  consistent  polic}'^  had  not 
been  carefully  studied  or  thoroughly  appreciated. 
The  greatest  enemy  which  France  had  reason  to 
dread,  in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  was  not 
the  duke  of  Burgundy  or  the  king  of  England,  but 


^t 


**  Hist,  de  Bourgogne,  torn  iv.,    i.  pp.  148,  149,  —  Basin,  torn.  ii.  p. 
Preuves,  p.  ccxcx.  — Lenglet,  torn.     185,  et  seq.  —  De  Troyes,  p.  75. 
ilL  p.  9,  et  seq.  —  Comminea,  torn. 


CHAP.  III.] 


REASONS  FOR  AVOIDING  WAR. 


543 


War  —  the  presence  of  foreign  troops  upon  her  soil, 
a  state  of  active  and  undisguised  hostilities,  which 
must  loosen  the  fra.nework  of  the  monarchy,  or  at 
least  expose  it  to  violent  and  hazardous  shocks.*^  The 
old  ruptures  Avere  slowly  healing ;  but  the  time  had 
not  arrived  when  all  the  parts  could  act  with  freedom 
and  in  unison.  A  numerous  and  still  powerful  nobility 
was  kept  in  partial  quiet  and  subordination  by  the 
vigilance  of  the  king,  by  his  daily  increasing  strength 
and  the  self-reliant  attitude  which  ho  had  of  late  been 
enabled  to  assume,  and  by  the  constant  and  dexter- 
ous use  of  all  the  means  at  his  command  for  dividing 
and  neutralizing  the  elements  of  opposition.  Any 
great  and  prolonged  strain  upon  his  resources  must 
deprive  him  of  the  ability  to  carry  on  this  work.  Any 
misfortune  he  might  sustain,  any  manifest  weakness, 
would  set  in  motion  all  the  treacherous  instincts,  and 
levive  all  the  plottings  and  cabals,  that  had  so  lately 
been  suppressed.^"  The  course  which  he  had  recently 
adopted  was  that  which  he  must  still  pursue — dealing 
quietly  and  subtly  with  the  nearest  but  least  active 
dangers,  maintaining  openly  a  state  of  preparation 
and  defence  against  invasion  from  abr(    d  or  rebellion 


^x 


a 


-'     V! 


9  Mi 


'  r 


t'-r 


'  I 


I 


**  Such  was  the  explanation  given 
by  Louis  himself,  several  years  af- 
ter^^■ar(ls,  of  the  motives  by  which  he 
had  been  influenced  on  similar  occa- 
sions :  "  Ne  vouloit  riens  mettre  en 
hazard.  Et  ne  le  faisoit  pas  seuUe- 
ment  par  la  craincte  du  due  de  Bour- 
gogne,  mais  pour  doubte  des  deso- 
beyssances  qui  poiirroient  advenir  en 
son  royaulme.  ...  II  m'a  maintesfois 


diet  qu'il  congnoissoit  bien  ses  sub- 
jectz,  et  qu'il  les  trouveroit  bien,  si 
ses  besonjrnes  se  portoient  mal." 
Commines.  ,om.  i.  p.  315. 

**  See  the  remarks  of  C^-'stellain 
(pp.  454,  462,  et  al.)  on  the  senti- 
ments of  the  French  nobility  arising 
out  of  its  divided  dependence  on 
the  crown  and  on  the  greH  feuda- 
tories. 


i'Hl' 


544 


HOSTILE  DEMONSTRATIONS. 


[book  II. 


•|!t 


iU 


,.<> ' 


■tifmn 


at  home,  and  waiting  patiently  till  some  propitious! 
chance  should  bring  within  his  reach  prizes  that 
might  be  grasped  without  the  hazard  of  a  greatei- 
loss.  The  conquest  of  Normandy  had  been  a  matter 
of  necessity :  deprived  of  the  command  of  that  prov- 
ince, he  lay  wholly  at  the  mercy  of  his  foes.  He  had 
now  completed,  in  this  quarter,  the  line  of  defence 
which  he  had  planned.  But  a  direct  attack  on  the 
duke  of  Burgundy  v/ould  be  only  the  comnifaicement 
of  a  long  and  hazardous  struggle.*^  Utterly  to  crush 
so  powerful  a  prince  was  a  project  not  to  be  con- 
ceived ;  and  no  defeat  which  Charles  might  suffer,  no 
losses  he  might  sustain,  would  wring  from  him  a  sin- 
gle concession,  much  less  compel  him  to  sue  for  peace. 
As  long  as  a  province  or  a  town  remained  to  him,  as 
long  as  {  sword  was  at  his  command  or  his  o^vn  arm 
could  wield  one,  he  would*assert  his  rights  and  con- 
tinue the  contest;*^  and  during  the  continuance  of 
such  a  contest  France  must  be  exposed  to  great  and 
unavoidable  disasters  and  to  perils  incalculable. 

Wliilo,  therefore,  all  the  world  anticipated  a  sudden 
and  bloody  collision,  —  while  the  traders  of  either 
country  who  had  crossed  the  frontiers  in  the  transac- 
tion of  their  business  hastily  packed  up  their  wares 


*''  "  La  puerre  entre  deux  grans 
princes  est  bien  aysee  h  commencer, 
mais  tres  mal  aysee  h  appaiser,  pour 
les  choses  qui  y  adviennent,  at  qui 
en  dcspendent,"  remarks  Commines, 
speaking  of  the  present  crisis.  Tom. 
i.  p.  152, 

*'  "Jura  Sainct-Jorge  que  apri- 
esme  y  tiendroit-il  lieu  et  place ;  et 


y  venist  le  roy  et  tout  I'effort  de  son 
royaulme,  de  Ih  ne  bougeroit  james 
ne  ne  reculeroit  d'ung  pie,  ains  mo- 
riroit  avant,  se  besoing  le  donnoit ; 
et  Ih.  vivroit  et  morroit,  et  tous  les 
siens,  jusques  h  avoir  tiro  du  roy  ce 
pourquoy  il  y  estoit  venu."  Chastel- 
lain,  p.  473. 


.       V.   <      -,        it;' 


i*  ■if 


f  fiJ 


OHAF.  III.] 


NEGOTIATIONS  RESUMED. 


645 


and  retreated  like  geese  before  a  tempest,  —  while 
Charles  himself,  in  full  expectation  of  an  immediate 
attack,  was  straining  every  sinew  to  meet  it  with 
becoming  vigor,  —  Louis  saw  in  the  present  juncture 
only  a  favorable  occasion  for  renewing  the  negotia- 
tions which  had  been  from  time  to  time  commenced 
without  leading  to  any  f?atisfactory  result.  He  had 
just  concluded  an  amicable  arrangement  with  his  fair 
cousin  of  Brittany ;  why  should  he  not  conclude  with 
his  fair  cousin  of  Burgundy  a  like  amicable  arrange- 
ment ?  Charles,  on  his  part,  had  given  out  that  his 
preparations  had  no  hostile  design  against  the  king, 
but  were  intended  merely  for  affording  succor  to  his 
allies  in  accordance  with  the  obligations  which  he  had 
long  since  contracted.  Those  obligations  no  longer 
existed ;  the  contract  had  been  annulled  by  the  act 
of  Francis  himself  at  the  moment  when  Charles,  in 
compliance  with  a  summons  to  that  effect,  stood 
ready  to  execute  it.  He  was  free,  therefore,  to  choose 
a  new  line  of  conduct ;  and,  if  secured  against  aggres- 
sion, there  could  be  no  reason  why  he  should  remain 
in  his  present  belligerent  attitude.  He  would,  per- 
haps, complain  that  the  menacing  demonstrations  of 
the  king  had  compelled  him,  at  a  great  cost,  to  levy 
troops  and  make  other  needless  outlays.  For  these 
Louis  would  reimburse  him ;  a  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  gold  crowns  should  be  paid  over  to  him 
without  delay  —  nay,  half  of  the  amount  was  sent 
forward  by  the  agents  who  carried  the  proposals  for 
a  prolongation  of  the  truce.    It  was  in  this  prompt, 


VOL.  I. 


69 


It 


1 4 1. 


n 


I-      :i- 


:  m 
j  ill 


646 


NEGOTIATIONS  ilESUMED. 


[boos  II. 


open,  and  business-like  manner  that  the  king  con- 
ducted his  affairs. 

Such  an  offer  could  not  well  be  received  without 
surprise.  The  indignation  excited  in  Charles's  breast 
by  the  news  of  the  late  treaty  was  at  its  height.  The 
herald  of  Brittany  had  brought  him  information  of 
it,  with  letters  reproaching  him  for  his  tardiness,  and 
explaining  the  necessity,  from  want  of  funds  and  suf- 
ficient troops,  which  had  compelled  Francis  to  yield. 
Charles  at  first  believed,  or  affected  to  believe,  that  the 
letters  were  forged  —  that  the  herald,  whose  journey 
had  been  facilitated  by  the  king,  had  been  seduced 
into  a  betrayal  of  his  sacred  trust ;  and  he  threatened 
to  hang  the  unlucky  functionary  for  this  supposed 
act  of  treason.^^  But  full  confirmation  of  the  evil 
news  was  soon  received,  and  excited  the  duke  to  a 
burst  of  furious  denunciatit)ri  against  his  faithless  and 
cowardly  ally.  But  alone  iie  would  maintain  the 
contest ;  alone  he  had  no  cause  to  dread  the  power 
and  enmity  of  a  king  of  France.*^  No  cause  indeed ; 
for  here,  in  the  midst  of  his  wrath,  was  a  king's  mes- 
senger kneeling  at  his  feet,  with  the  fairest  proffers 
from  his  master,  and  a  heavy,  jingling  bag  containing 
the  first  instalment  of  a  tribute  which  betrayed  the 
fears  and  the  weakness  of  the  sender.  True,  there 
must  be  a  certain  repugnance  felt  in  receiving  what 
had  somewhat  the  appearance  of  a  salve  for  one's 


j> 


*^  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  150.  —  cifie's  aveuoques  le  roy,  et  I'avoient 

De  Troyes,  p.  75.  abandonnd, .  .     de  ce  ne  fesoit-il  es- 

'"  "  Quant  axi  regard  de  ce  que  time ;  .  .  .  il  ostoit  fort  et  puissant 

les  aultres  s'estoient  dcportes  et  pa-  assez,  tout  seal."  Chastellain,  p.  473. 


CHAT.  III.] 


INITIATORY  STEPS. 


547 


wounded  feelings,  or  a  bribe  for  one's  connivance  in 
an  act  of  treachery.  But  this  were  to  consider  too 
nicely.  The  world  would  see  in  the  transaction  only 
a  proof  that  *he  duke  was  feared  by  his  enemy  even 
more  than  he  was  detested  —  that  the  king,  instead 
of  giving  the  first  blow,  had  crouched  before  his  ad- 
versary's uplifted  aruL 

The  initiatory  steps  having  thus  succeeded  to  his 
wish,  Louis  grew  more  restless,  more  impatient  for 
that  complete  settlement  which  would  place  him  on 
a  securer  basis  and  give  to  his  policy  a  freer  scope. 
That  Charles  was  inflamed  to  such  a  pitch  of  wrath 
against  his  old  ally  concurred  most  happily  with  the 
king's  purpose.  The  question  which  had  never  ceased 
to  occupy  his  thoughts  was,  how  to  break  up  the  con- 
federpcy  between  his  great  vassals  ;^'  and  now  a  rift 
was  made  in  the  principal  seam,  where  a  wedge,  skil- 
fully inserted  and  driven  home,  would  complete  the 
separation.*^  With  the  king's  money  in  his  hands, 
—  a  generous  and  spontaneous  gift,  —  Charles  could 
not  but  listen  patiently  to  friendly  advice,  to  a  lucid 
exposition  of  his  true  interests,  from  the  same  disin- 
terested quarter.^'  He  might  now  be  convinced  — 
by  arguments  judiciously  employed — that  such  allies 
as  he  had  hitherto  selected  were  unworthy  of  his 


*'  *'  Tousjours  estoient  les  fins  du 
Roy  de  les  separer."  Commines, 
torn.  i.  p.  149^ 

**  "  II  sembla  bien  lors  au  Roy 
qu'il  estoit  h  la  fin  de  son  intention, 
et  que  ayseement  il  gaigneroit  ledict 
due  h  semblablement  habandonner 
les  ducz  dessus  nommez" — i.  e.,  of 


Brittany  and  Nonnandy.     Idem,  p. 
150. 

*'  «  Esperant  le  gaigner  de  tou« 
poinctz  k  sa  voulente,  veu  les  mau- 
vais  tours  que  les  deux  dessusdictz 
luy  avoient  tu.otz,  et  veu  aussi  oeste 
grant  somme  d'argent  qu'il  luy  avoit 
donne."    Idem,  ubi  supra. 


*«i!-|l 


n 

4 
'til,     !, 


I 


'Is 
If 


$ 


548 


NEGOTIATIONS  RESUMED. 


[book  It. 


support.  He  might  be  induced  to  relinquish  the 
conspiracies  of  petty  princes  for  an  open  and  cordial 
union  with  his  sovereign.  Other  fields  of  enterprise 
were  open  to  him,  in  which  the  king  would  raise  no 
obstacles  to  his  success.  All  the  present  points  of 
diflerence  between  them  might  be  examined  in  a  lib- 
eral spirit  and  definitively  arranged. 

But  to  what  hands  could  a  negotiation  requiring 
to  be  so  delicately  managed  be  intrusted  ?  For  some 
time  past  Balue,  now  raised  to  the  dignity  of  a  car- 
dinal, had  been  employed  in  carrying  messages  to 
the  Burgundian  court  —  probably,  also,  in  cementing 
certain  relations  with  some  members  of  the  ducal 
household ;  for  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  Louis 
had  secret  well-wishers  and  friends  among  the  most 
trusted  servants  of  the  duke.  But  the  "  good  devil 
of  a  bishop,"^*  though  sufficiently  useful  in  the  com- 
mon and  coarser  business  of  intrigue,  was  far  from 
possessing  the  tact  and  adroitness  necessary  for  the 
matter  now  in  hand.  Saint-Pol  had  already  signally 
failed  in  a  similar  mission,  and  had,  besides,  given 
deep  offence  to  Charles  by  assuming,  in  a  late  visit 
to  Bruges,  a  degree  of  state  which,  however  suitable 
to  the  constable  of  France,  was  regarded  as  a  mark 
of  insolent  defiance  when  displayed  at  the  court  of 
his  natural  sovereign.^^  In  short,  there  was  no  person 
capable  of  carrying  out  the  king's  design  except  hira- 


**  "  n  est  bon  diable  d'Evesque  sen'ed  by  Brantome,  —  adding,  as  if 

pour  k   cette    heure,"    Louis    had  with  some  prophetical  misgivings, 

written  of  him,  —  in  one  of  the  let-  "  Je  ne  S9ay  ce  qu'il  sera  a  ravenir." 

ters  to  the  Sire  de  Bressiure  pre-  **  Chastellain,  pp.  457, 458. 


CHAP.  111.]  INTERVIEW  PROPOSED  BY  LOXHS. 


649 


i 


self.  Speeches  which  from  an  envoy  might  seem  the 
mere  commonplaces  of  diplomatic  courte- v  would  fall 
with  a  potent  influence  from  his  own  lips.  Louis 
would  know  how  to  deal  with  the  peculiarities  of  his 
rival's  character,  how  to  guide  the  discussion  in  the 
channel  which  he  had  himself  marked  out,  and  how 
to  grapple  with  any  difficulties  that  might  unexpect- 
edly arise.  Were  he  to  commit  the  affair  to  other 
hands,  he  would  be  all  the  while  filled  with  anxieties 
and  doubts  —  a  prey  by  turns  to  agitation  and  de- 
pression ;  but  no  sooner  did  the  idea  of  a  personal 
interview  with  Charles  present  itself  to  his  mind  than 
he  seems  to  have  labored  for  its  realization  in  that 
hopeful,  credulous,  wilful  spirit  which  in  him  was  so 
strangely  united  with  a  proneness  to  jealousy  and 
alarms,  with  a  capacity  for  profound  calculations  and 
consummate  wiles. 

His  mode  of  procedure  was  in  the  highest  degree 
characteristic.  Had  he  followed  the  course  usual  on 
such  occasions,  he  would  have  proposed  a  meeting  at 
some  point  midway  between  the  two  armies,  whither 
each  party  should  come  with  a  fixed  and  equal  num- 
ber of  attendants,  and  where  a  barrier  would  have 
prevented  the  possibility  of  any  sudden  treachery  en 
either  side.  But  such  precautions  would  have  be- 
trayed the  apprehension  of  treachery,  and  would  have 
formed  an  insuperable  obstacle  to  the  establishment 
of  a  friendly  and  confidential  intercourse.  From  a, 
formal  conference  of  this  kind  Ltiuis  could  anticipate 
no  good  result.  In  fact,  it  wa'  \/  the  absence  on  his 
part  of  all  appearance  of  suspicion,  by  an  ostentatious 


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550 


INTERVIEW  PROPOSED  BY  LOUIS. 


[book  II, 


display  of  confidence  and  trust,  that  he  must  prevent 
any  doubt  as  to  his  own  good  faith,  and  prepare  the 
way  for  a  favorable  reception  of  his  proposals.  In 
former  days,  when  a  fugitive  and  an  exile,  he  had 
found  protection  and  security  at  the  Burgundian  court. 
Since  his  accession  he  had  paid  more  than  one  visit  to 
Philip;  and  it  was  no  feeling  of  distrust  shown  or  en- 
tertained by  him  that  had  prevented  the  repetition  of 
these  visits.  The  time  had  arrived  for  establishing  the 
same  relations  with  PhiUp's  successor.  He  would  seek 
no  other  security  than  an  assurance  that  the  duke 
himself  would  protect  him  against  any  possible  mis- 
chance. At  Conflans  he  had  acted  in  the  same  man- 
ner while  hostilit'es  were  actually  going  on;  and, 
after  their  cessation,  he  had  made  his  daily  appear- 
ance, almost  unattended,  iij^the  Burgundian  camp. 

An  officer  of  the  duke's  chamber  was  employed  to 
sound  him  privately  on  the  subject.  Charles,  who 
doubtless  foresaw  the  torrent  of  argument  and  blan- 
dishment whicii  was  to  descend  upon  him,  while 
conscious  of  his  own  stubborn  powers  of  resistance, 
expressed  a  disinclination  to  the  scheme.®"  But 
Louis,  having  once  determined  on  its  accomplishment, 
was  too  eager  and  too  sanguine  to  be  chilled  by  a 
slight  repulse ;  and  he  despatched  Balue  with  an 
open  and  formal  proposal,  which  it  was  impossible 
for  Charles  to  decline.  Meanwhile  the  king's  inten- 
tion had  become  generally  known,  and  excited  among 
the  mass  of  his  adherents  an  opinion  little  favorable 


**  Commines,  torn.  i.  pp  150, 151.    sin,  torn.  ii.  pp.  188, 189.  ■ 
—  Lomarche,  torn.  ii.  p.  285.  —  Ba-    fol.  345  verso. 


■  Meyer, 


CHAP.  III.]  INTERVIEW  PROPOSED  BY  LOTUS. 


551 


to  his  perspicacity  and  prudence.  His  ministers, 
being  probably  influenced  by  other  considerations 
besides  mere  regard  for  his  safety,  seem  to  have  been 
divided  in  their  sentiments.  Saint-Pol,  alarmed  at 
the  prospect  of  a  war  in  which  he  knew  not  how  to 
side  with  either  party,  and  of  which,  if  it  now  broke 
out,  Picardy  would  be  the  theatre,  was  seduced  by 
these  private  motives  for  desiring  an  immediate  and 
peaceful  arrangement  into  acting  the  voluntary  and 
unprompted  part  of  a  decoy  —  assuring  Louis,  from 
information  he  pretended  to  have  received,  that 
Charles  had  himself  become  impatient  for  the  inter- 
view, and  was  otherwise  in  a  favorable  mood  for  the 
success  of  the  negotiation.  Balue,  who  was  after- 
wards suspected  of  having  maintained  all  along  a 
secret  correspondence  with  the  Burgundian  court,  is 
accused  in  some  contemporary  accounts,  but  with 
little  appearance  of  truth,  not  merely  of  having  urged 
his  master  to  carry  out  his  design,  but  of  having  ori- 
ginally suggested  it.'''     On  the  other  hand,  reports 


"  The  account  given  of  the  meet- 
ing at  Fdronne  in  the  relation  print- 
ed by  Mdlle.  Dupont  (Preuves,  p. 
232,  et  seq.)  is  unworthy  of  the  least 
credit,  having  evidently  no  beUer 
foundation  than  the  exaggerated  ru- 
mors of  the  time,  and  being  altogeth- 
er at  variance  with  the  statements 
of  other  writers,  based  upon  a  per- 
sonal though  limited  knowledge  of 
the  facts.  The  king,  it  is  true, 
brought  the  same  charges  against 
Bolue,  (Lenglet.  torn.  iii.  p.  74,)  but 
not  until  the  cardinal's  subsequent 
treason  had  given  Louis  a  long  de- 


sired opportunity  of  shifting  from 
his  own  shoulders  tliu  responsibility 
of  a  characteristic  blunder  and  its 
consequences.  Collusion  between 
Bali]^  and  Charles  would  imply,  of 
course,  a  premeditated  breach  of  trust 
on  the  part  of  the  Burgundian  prince 
—  a  supposition  not  entertained  by 
any  modem  M-riter.  Michelet  (tom. 
vi,  p.  264,  and  note)  seems  to  fall 
into  a  self-contradiction  on  this  point ; 
for,  while  intimating  a  suspicion  in 
regard  to  Balue,  he  expressly  admits 
that  "  tout  porte  k  croire  que  le  duo 
ne  mdditait  point  un  guet-apens." 


v. 


552 


INTERVIEW  PROPOSED  BY  LOUIS. 


[book  II. 


m  ■ 


were  freely  circulated  of  disloyal  and  treacherous 
intentions  on  the  part  of  Charles;''*  and  the  great 
military  officers  —  Dammartin,  Loheac,  Rouault  — 
were  unanimous  in  their  efforts  to  dissuade  the  king 
from  putting  himself  so  completely  in  the  power  of 
an  enemy.  These  remonstrances,  however,  produced 
no  effect.  Louis,  perhaps,  attributed  them  to  the 
common  sentiment  of  the  army,  shared  by  all  its 
chiefs,  in  favor  of  active  hostilities.  Nor  was  he  likely 
to  give  greater  heed  to  rumor,  founded,  of  course,  on 
no  knowledge  of  the  facts,  and  always  certain,  in  such 
a  case,  to  prognosticate  a  tragical  conclusion.  He 
rejected  also  the  advice  of  Dammartin,  that  he  should 
take  with  him  a  body  of  troops  sufficient  for  his  pro- 
tection. This  would  have  defeated  his  plan  at  the 
very  outset,  by  creating  an  impression  exactly  oppo- 
site to  that  which  he  was  ^ost  desirous  to  produce. 
He  chose  to  be  accompa  4ed  only  by  his  great  offi- 
cers of  state  and  a  single  company  of  archers,  and 
requested  that  the  duke  would  himself  furnish  an 
escort  to  meet  him  b}"^  the  way  and  conduct  him  to 
P^ronne.  Such  were  the  striking  proofs  which  he 
gave  of  an  unlimited  confidence  —  in  what  ?  In  the 
loyalty  and  chivalric  honor  of  his  cousin  of  Bur- 
gundy, or  in  the  sacred  immunities  of  his  own  person 


**  "  Ceux  qui  sont  autour  du  Roy 
mettent  ludite  allce  en  grande  doubte, 
pour  les  dangers  qui  peuvent  sur- 
venir  en  plusieurs  manieres  en  la 
personne  du  Roy ;  et  hiev  soir  vint 
le  vidame  d' Amiens,  qui  amena  un 
homme  qui  aflirma  sur  sa  vie  que 
Bourgogne  ne  tend  k  ceste  assemblde, 


sinon  pour  faire  quelque  cchec  en  la 
personne  du  Roy.  .  .  .  Pleust  k  Dieu 
que  ce  fut  le  bien  du  Roy,  et  qu'il  ne 
pass&t  point  outre."  Lettre  de  La 
Loer,  receveur  gdndral  du  Langue- 
doc,  ap.  Petitot,  Mdm.  de  Commines, 
torn.  i.  p.  465,  note. 


CHAP.  III.] 


MEETING  AT  P^RONNE. 


553 


and  royal  office  ?  It  were  difficult  to  say.  No  doubt 
his  mind  was  chiefly  occupied  with  the  questions 
about  to  be  discussed  and  the  mode  in  which  he  could 
best  conduct  them  to  a  satisfactory  solution. 

He  waited  now  only  for  the  safe-conduct  which  he 
had  demanded  from  the  duke.  This  letter,  still  extant 
in  the  handwriting  of  Charles  himself,  bears  the  date 
of  October  8,  and  is  thus  worded :  "  Monseigneur,  I 
commend  myself  most  humbly  to  your  g(/()d  grace. 
Sir,  if  it  be  your  pleasure  to  come  to  this  town  of 
P^ronne  in  order  that  we  may  converse  together,  I 
swear  and  promise  you,  by  my  faith  and  on  my  honor, 
that  you  may  come,  remain  and  sojourn,  and  return 
in  surety  to  Chauny  or  Noyon,  according  to  your 
pleasure,  and  as  often  as  it  shall  please  you,  freely 
and  openly,  without  any  hinderance  offered  either  to 
you  or  any  of  your  people,  by  me  or  by  any  other, 
for  any  cause  that  now  exists  or  that  may  hereafter 
arkeV^  The  language  was  too  full  and  explicit  to 
admit  of  cavil  or  distrust.  Guillaume  Biche,  whom 
we  have  before  found  employed  in  private  negotia- 
tions between  the  two  princes,  was  present  when  the 
letter  was  written,  and,  having  received  it  from  the 
duke,  caused  it  to  be  immediately  trarsmitted  to 
Louis.®*    In  anticipation  of  its  arrival,  the  king  had 


^'f'l  f 


^'  The  letter  is  printed  among  the 
p\kces  justificatives  in  Salazar,  Len- 
glet,  and  other  collections.  The 
handwriting  was  subsequently  sworn 
to  by  several  of  the  Burgundian  no- 
bles. (Lenglet,  torn.  iii.  pp.  18-20, 
iknd  torn.  iv.  p.  405,  et  seq.)  Qachard 
VOL.  I.  70 


says,  "  J'ai  moi-mSme  vu  Toriginal." 
It  is  preserved  among  the  MSS  de 
Baluze,  in  the  Imperial  Library  at 
Paris. 

'**  Deposition  de  Guillaume  Biche, 
Lenglet,  torn.  iv.  p.  409. 


I 


554 


MEETING  AT  PJ&RONNE. 


[book  ii. 


i- 


Hii 


:  H  '  <'\  ■ 


\^ 


removed  to  Ham,  whence  he  set  out  on  the  morning 
of  the  following  day,  (Sunday,  October  9,)  accompa- 
nied by  his  confessor  the  bishop  of  Avranche,  by  the 
duke  of  Bourbon  and  his  brothers  the  archbishop  of 
Lyons  and  the  Sire  de  Beaujeu  admiral  of  France, 
by  the  cardinal,  the  constable,  and  a  small  troop  of 
nobles  and  cavaliers,  and  by  fourscore  archers  of  the 
Scottish  guard.  He  was  met  on  the  wcy  by  two 
hundred  lances,  under  the  command  of  Philippe  de 
Cr^vecoeur,  seigneur  d'Esquerdes,  a  nobleman  of  dis- 
tinguished gallantry,  with  whom  Louis  had  long  been 
personally  acquainted.  Charles  himself,  attended  by 
a  numerous  company  of  nobles,  awaited  the  arrival 
of  the  royal  party  by  the  banks  of  a  small  stream  at 
the  distance  of  a  mile  or  two  from  P^ronne.  The 
constable  was  the  first  to  make  his  appearance ;  and, 
learning  from  him  that  thC  king  was  near  at  hand, 
Charles,  accompanied  by  his  suite,  went  forward  to 
receive  him.  As  soon  as  his  sovereign  came  in  sight 
he  bowed  to  his  saddle-bow,  and  prepared  to  dis- 
mount. But  Louis  hastened  forward,  with  head  un- 
covered, and  prevented  him.  Clasping  his  arms  about 
the  duke's  neck,  he  saluted  him  several  times,  and 
seemed  loath  to  terminate  the  embrace.  Turning. to 
the  Burgundian  nobles,  he  greeted  them  individually 
with  his  accustomed  air  of  frankness  and  cordiality. 
Then  he  insisted  on  again  embracing  Charles,  and 
held  him  in  his  arms  "  half  as  long  again  as  before." 
Nothing  could  exceed  the  lovingness  of  his  demeanor 
towards  his  fair  cousin — to  whose  protection,  to 


CHAP.  III.] 


MEETING  AT  PlCRONNB. 


655 


whose  pledged  and  sworn  faith  and  honor,  he  had 
now  confided  his  porson."* 

The  two  princes  r  ide  side  by  side  in  the  centre  of 
the  cavalcade  —  Lou)s  resting  his  hond  on  Charles's 
shoulder,  his  sharp,  eager  visage  covered  with  smiles,"^ 
his  tongue  going  all  the  v/hile  at  its  usual  rapid 
pace.  It  was  somewhat  past  noon  when  they  entered 
the  streets  of  P^ronne.  The  castle  being  out  of 
repair  and  meagrely  furnished,  a  neighboring  house, 
which  belonged  to  one  of  the  principal  functionaries 
of  the  province,  had  been  prepared  for  the  king's  ac- 
commodation. Here  he  dismissed  the  greater  number 
of  his  suite,  some  of  whom  were  provided  with  lodg- 
ings in  another  part  of  the  town ;  while  the  consta- 
ble returned  to  Ham,  which  was  one  of  his  seignorial 
possessions.  The  Scottish  archers  were  quartered  in 
the  suburbs.  The  duke  having  also  taken  leave, 
Louis  entered  the  house,  accompanied  by  his  con- 
fessor. Cardinal  Balue,  the  vicomte  de  Narbonne,  and 
a  few  attendants  of  inferior  rank,  some  of  them  per- 
sons who,  in  spite  of  the  meanness  of  their  birth,  — 
or  perhaps  on  that  very  account,  —  were  treated  by 
their  master  with  a  singular  familiarity.  The  win- 
dows of  his  apartment  looked  down  upon  the  street ; 
and  his  attention  was  presently  called  to  a  party  of 
cavaliers  who  were  preparing  to  take  up  their  quar- 


"  Lettre  dcrite  aux  magistrats 
d'Yprea,  Gachard,  Doc.  Indd.,  torn, 
i.  p.  196,  et  seq.  —  Lenglet,  torn.  iii. 
pp.  17,  21,  et  al.  —  Haynin,  torn.  i. 
p.  139.  —  TheodoricuB  Paulus,  De 
Ram,  p.  215. 


•«  "Tout  en  riant"  Gachard, 
torn.  i.  p.  197.  —  "  Le  Roy  tenant  sa 
main  sur  I'espaule  du  Duo."  Len- 
glet, torn.  iii.  p.  17. 


556 


MEETING  AT  P^ONNE. 


[book   II. 


i 


ters  in  the  castle.  It  happened  that  the  lances  of 
Burgundy,  whose  arrival  had  been  long  expected, 
had  that  morning  reached  the  camp.  Their  com- 
mander, Thibault  de  Neufchatel,  marshal  of  Burgundy, 
after  disposing  of  his  troops,  had  entered  the  town 
almost  at  the  same  moment  as  Louis,  but  from  the 
opposite  direction.  Besides  his  principal  officers,  he 
was  accompanied  by  several  noblemen,  who,  though 
not  subjects  of  the  duke,  had,  from  strong  personal 
motives,  come  to  enlist  themselves  in  his  service  in 
the  war  which  they  had  supposed  to  be  impending. 
Among  them  were  the  count  of  Bresse  and  his  broth- 
ers the  bishop  of  Geneva  and  the  count  of  Romont 
-  ,  'noes  of  Savoy,  and  the  heads  of  a  party  in  that 
fe  ;;•  rt^hich,  opposing  a  steady  resistance  to  the  in- 
fluence of  France  and  of  the  Duchess  Yolande,  the 
king's  sister,  had  naturally  sought  sup^iort  in  an  alli- 
ance with  the  house  of  Burgundy.  Eomont  was  the 
personal  friend  Oi  the  duke  and  the  companion  of 
his  boyhood.  Philip  of  Bresse, itwill  be  remembered, 
had,  several  years  before,  tested  the  sincerity  of  the 
king's  professions  and  his  fidelity  to  his  engagements 
by  accepting  his  proffered  mediation  and  visiting  his 
court  on  the  guaranty  of  a  safe-conduct — an  act  of  temer- 
ity expiated  by  a  long  and  rigorous  confinement  in 
the  citadel  of  Loches.  Other  faces  in  the  group  were 
those  of  Frenchmen  —  subjects  and  fonr^er  servants 
of  the  king,  but  servants  who  had  fallen  under  his  dis- 
pleasure, subjects  who  had  discarded  their  allegiance, 
fugitives  from  his  anger  and  declared  enemies  to  his 
person.    One  of  them,  Poncet  de  la  Riviere,  had  held 


cn\p.  III.] 


MEETING  AT  PERONNE. 


557 


a  command  in  the  royal  army  at  the  battle  of  Mont- 
Ih^ry,  and,  being  removed  from  his  post,  had  quitted 
tlie  country  in  disgust,  and  gone  on  a  pilgrimage  to 
the  Holy  Land,  from  which  he  was  but  lately  returned. 
Another,  Antoine  de  Chasteau-Neuf,  seigneur  du  Lau, 
seneschal  of  Guienne,  grand  chamberlain  and  grand 
butler  of  France,  had  also  fallen  into  disgrace  during 
the  War  of  the  Public  Weal,  when  he  was  suspected  of 
maintaining  a  correspondence  with  the  confederates 
and  of  plotting  secretly  against  the  king.  After  the 
conclusion  of  that  war  Louis  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
the  treason  of  those  who  were  openly  engaged  in  it. 
He  spared  no  efforts  to  attach  to  his  cause  and  per- 
son his  most  active  and  conspicuous  opponents.  The 
dukes  of  Bourbon  and  Calabria,  Dammartin,  Loh^ac, 
and  many  others,  then  his  avowed  enemies,  were  now 
his  firm  adherents  and  the  executors  of  his  plans. 
But  against  the  men  in  whom,  at  that  season  of  his 
greatest  peril,  he  had  been  compelled  to  confide,  and 
who,  as  he  well  believed,  had  played  him  false,  he 
had  conceived  a  deep  and  deadly  hate,  which  was 
not  the  less  deadly  that  it  waited  patiently  for  the 
time  when  the  luxury  of  vengeance  might  safely  be 
indulged.  In  the  summer  of  the  present  yeiar,  when 
Louis  found  himself  strengthened  by  the  general  sup- 
port of  his  people,  and  when  he  seemed  to  be  on  the 
eve  of  another  struggle  which  would  test  the  fidelity 
of  his  adherents,  he  gave  the  first  indication  of  a  feel- 
ing long  but  secretly  cherished  by  causing  Charles  de 
Melun,  the  former  grand-master  of  his  household,  to 
be  tried,  condemned,  and  executed.   For  Du  Lau,  who 


\-^h 


658 


MEETING  AT  P£!bONN£, 


[book  II, 


was  already  a  prisoner  in  the  fortress  of  Usson,  a  more 
terrible  punishment  had  been  devised.  The  king  had 
given  orders  for  the  construction  of  an  iron  cage,  in 
which  his  wretched  victim,  confined  within  the  strait- 
est  limits  and  deprived  of  every  ray  of  light,  was  to 
linger  out  the  remnant  of  his  days.  But  this  fearful 
doom  Du  Lau  contrived  to  evade.  With  the  conni- 
vance of  his  keepers  he  made  his  escape,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching  Dijon,  leaving  the  governor  of 
the  prison  and  other  persons  who  had  aided  him  in 
his  flight  to  the  mercy  of  Louis  and  the  expert  hands 
of  .Tristan  THermite.** 

Such  were  the  persons  now  congregated  in  the 
courtyard  of  the  castle  of  Peronne,  beneath  the 
window  where  stood  the  king."*  Every  face  was  a 
familiar  one;  every  breast  was  decorated  with  the 
cross  of  Saint  Andrew;**  ^ery  heart  was  filled  with 
a  rancorous  hate  and  desire  for  vengeance,  to  learn 
the  nature  and  the  cause  of  which  he  needed  only  to 
consult  his  own.  Even  the  marshal  of  Burgundy  had 
private  as  well  as  political  grounds  for  regarding  him 
with  detestation — a  feeling  which  he  had  never  given 
himself  any  trouble  to  conceal.  Louis  was  seized  with 
a  sudden  and  great  fear.""  He  experienced  that  re- 
vulsion of  feeling  which  follows  surely,  spieedily,  but 
too  late,  the  commission  of  an  act  of  rashness,  when 
facts  can  be  no  longer  doubted,  when  arguments  can 

"  De  Troyes,  pp.  62,  74,  75.  —  de  sondlt  logis."    Lenglet,  torn.  iii. 

Commines,  torn.  i.  pp.  153,  154. —  p.  21. 

Lenglet,  torn.  iii.  p.  21.  —  Gaehard,        **  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  164. 
Doc.  Ined.,  torn.  i.  pp.  197,  198.  '«   "  Si  entra  en  grant  paour." 

**  "  Le  Roy  present  aux  fenestres  Idem,  p.  155. 


CHAP,  in.] 


MEETING  AT  PERONNE. 


559 


be  no  longer  refuted,  when  escape  is  no  longer  possi- 
ble, when  the  consequences  are  plain  and  inevitable. 
He  comprehended  the  position  in  which  he  had  placed 
himself —  alone  and  powerless,  and  surrounded  by 
enemies.  He  dared  not  spend  a  single  night  in  his 
present  abode,  in  a  vicinity  so  full  of  danger.  He 
must  place  himself  more  immediately  under  the  pro- 
tection of  the  duke,  the  only  protection  to  which  he 
could  now  appeal ;  and  he  accordingly  despatched  a 
messenger  to  Charles,  desiring  that  the  castle  might 
be  got  in  readiness  for  his  reception,  and  that  other 
measures  n.'ght  be  taken  for  his  better  security.  His 
request  was  instantly  complied  with.  The  marshal 
and  his  company  were  provided  with  different  quar- 
ters; and,  on  the  same  afternoon,  Louis,  with  his 
scanty  suite,  passed  through  the  massive  portals  be- 
tween a  double  file  of  the  Burgundian  guard.*'  It 
was  in  the  guise,  and  it  must  have  been  with  the 
feelings,  of  a  captive  that  he  entered  the  gloomy  edi- 
fice.  There  was  little  in  the  aspect  of  its  interior  to 
reassure  his  sinking  courage.  It  had  been  designed 
originally  for  a  fortress  and  a  state  prison  rather  than 
a  seignorial  residence.  Its  thick  walls  had  withstood 
many  assaults,*'*  and  in  its  dark  and  narrow  dungeons 
many  victims  of  feudal  anarchy  and  feudal  tyranny 


'"'  Ludwigs  von  Diesbach  Chronik 
und  Selbstbiographie,  Der  Schwei- 
zerische  Gesichtsforscher,  B.  viii. 
8.  173.  —  The  author  —  a  member 
of  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
families  in  Berne,  whose  intimate  re- 
lations with  the  French  court  will  be 
found  important  at  a  later  period  — 


had  recently  become  a  page  in  the 
royal  household,  and  accompanied 
the  king  to  Pdronne. 

*"  Peronne  —  called  hence  "  La 
Pucelle"  —  maintained  its  fame  as 
a  virgin  fortress  until  taken  by  Wel- 
lington in  1815. 


560 


MEETINO  AT  P^RONNE. 


[book  II. 


had  languished  and  expired.  Close  by  the  apartment 
assigned  to  the  king  stood  a  tower,*"  in  which,  five 
centuries  before,  a  predecessor  of  his  own  had  been 
long  held  in  durance  by  a  rebellious  vassal,  the  count 
of  Vermandois,  and  where  his  imprisonment  was  be- 
lieved to  have  terminated  in  a  violent  death.  The 
coincidence  was  an  alarming  one.  But  a  fate  less 
terrible,  though  far  more  humiliating,  than  that  of 
Charles  the  Simple,  was  now  reserved  for  Louis  the 
AstiUe. 


•*  A  portfou  of  this  tower  is  still  (torn.  i.  p.  161)  soys  expressly,  "  8e 

standing ;  and  one  of  its  apartments  veoit  logid    rasibus    d'une    grosse 

is  shown  to  strangers  as  that  in  which  tour,"  &c 
Louis  was  confined.  But  CommineB 


CHAPTER    IV. 


TRKATT  or  PXBONNE.  —  FINAL   BUIN   OF  LIRQE. 


1468. 


By  the  strict  theory  of  feudalism,  the  sovereign,  in 
alienating  any  portion  of  his  domain,  divested  him- 
self of  all  direct  authority  over  the  inhabitants  and 
the  soil.  His  power  was  to  be  thenceforth  exercised 
by  his  immediate  vassal,  the  holder  of  the  fief,  from 
whom  he  exacted  homage,  military  service,  and  such 
other  obligations  as  were  expressed  in  the  grant  or 
implied  by  the  nature  of  the  feudal  tie.  But,  in 
practice,  it  more  often  happened  that  some  preroga- 
tive of  sovereignty  —  the  supreme  jurisdiction,  the 
right  of  imposing  a  tax,  or  the  control  of  commerce 
and  navigation  —  was  reserved ;  and,  even  where  no 
such  reservation  had  been  made,  it  might  be  deduced 
from  analogy  or  precedent.  Hence  there  were  always 
openings  for  aggression  and  for  controversy;  and  in 
the  fifteenth  century,  when  the  struggle  for  power 
had  become  vehement  and  universal,  such  controver- 
sies were  of  perpetual  recurrence.  Many  such  discus- 
VOL.1.  71  (iW 


662 


THE  KING  AT  PilRONNE. 


[book  n. 


!«' 


sions  had  arisen  between  the  duke  of  Burgundy  and 
the  king,  and  had  been  kept  alive,  rather  than  con- 
cluded, by  the  negotiations  continually  going  on.  It 
was  the  policy  of  Louis  to  impose  every  possible 
check  on  the  power  exercised  by  his  rival;  to  remind 
him,  on  every  occasion,  of  his  dependent  position; 
and  to  maintain  a  constant  agitation  of  his  own 
claims,  even  when  he  saw  no  immediate  prospect  of 
being  able  to  enforce  them.  But  any  change  in  the 
aspect  of  his  affairs  was  sure  to  suggest  a  new  and 
entirely  different  plan  of- operations.  He  had  now 
come  to  P^ronne  prepared  to  surrender  by  treaty  all 
the  points  in  dispute.  What  he  required  in  return 
was  simply  that  Charles  should  bind  himself  to  the 
faithful  performance  of  his  feudal  obligation?)  to  ad- 
here to  his  sovereign  and  defend  his  cause  against  all 
his  enemies  and  assailants.  How  far  such  a  promise 
would  be  effective  or  sincere,  to  what  extent  it  could 
be  relied  upon  when  the  necessity  should  arise,  must 
depend  in  some  degree  on  the  representations  under 
which  it  was  obtained,  and  on  the  impression  which 
Louis  might  be  able  to  produce  upon  a  mind  that  had 
never  yet  proved  susceptible  to  his  influence.  But, 
at  all  events,  an  immediate  and  real  advantage  would 
be  gained.  A  treaty  with  the  duke  of  Burgundy  of 
the  same  tenor  as  that  which  had  just  been  signed 
by  the  duke  of  Brittany  would  complete  the  dissolu- 
tion of  their  alliance,  deepen  their  present  feelings 
of  mutual  anger  and  mistrust,  and  oppose  a  serious 
obstacle  to  the  speedy  formation  of  a  similar  confed- 
eracy.    Accordingly,  the  king  brought  forward  his 


II  M 


OUAF.  IV.] 


THE  KING  AT  PJSrONNE. 


563 


proposal,  the  day  after  his  arrival,  in  an  interview  at 
which,  besides  the  principal  parties,  the  cardinal  and 
Biche  seem  to  have  been  the  only  persons  present* 
Charles,  with  his  accustomed  directness,  professed  his 
willingness  to  promise  aid  and  allegiance  to  his  sove- 
reign, but  only  under  limitations  which  must  render 
such  a  promise  of  little  value  in  the  eyes  of  the  king. 
No  oflfers  or  persuasions  could  induce  him  to  renounce 
his  alliances  with  other  princes,  formed  for  their  mu- 
tual assistance  and  defence.  However  indignant  he 
might  be  at  the  late  defection  of  the  duke  of  Brit- 
tany, he  knew  that  it  could  be  only  temporary,  that 
his  own  position,  and  not  that  of  Francis,  must  be 
the  rallying  ground  of  the  league ;  and  this  position 
he  was  fully  determined  to  maintain.  A  second  in- 
terview, which  took  place  on  the  following  day,  led 
to  no  alteration  in  his  sentiments.  Louis,  therefore, 
had  entirely  failed  in  the  object  of  his  visit;  and  such, 
doubtless,  under  any  circumstances,  would  have  been 
the  result.  But  for  this  disappointment  he  had  been 
prepared  from  the  moment  when  he  awakened  to 
the  perception  of  his  real  situation.  An  embarrass- 
ment which  he  could  neither  conquer  nor  conceal  had 
chilled  his  sanguine  spirit  and  checked  its  versatile 
and  vigorous  play.  The  negotiation  had  lapsed  into 
a  mere  formality.  The  impatience  he  now  felt  was 
to  return  to  his  own  dominions.  But  the  step  which 
he  had  taken  was  not  to  be  so  easily  retraced.  It 
had  brought  him  to  a  more  critical  point  than  he 
was  yet  aware  of  j  and  the  issue  was  to  be  deter- 

'  Lenglet,  torn.  iii.  p.  21. 


»    ? 


564 


CONDITION  OF  LIEGE. 


[book  II. 


p!   . 


'k 


mined  by  another  train  of  events  coming  suddenly 
into  collision  with  that  which  has  just  been  nar- 
rated. 

In  the  repeated  chastisements  inflicted  on  the  re- 
bellious subject^  of  the  bishop  of  Liege  the  duke  of 
Burgundy  had  only  carried  out  the  sentence  pro- 
nounced by  the  pope.  But  Home  had  long  been 
unused  to  see  its  mandates  thus  literally  executed. 
When  the  news  of  the  destruction  of  Dinant  and  the 
conquest  of  liege  reached  the  papal  court  they  ex- 
cited a  universal  feeling  of  compassion  and  dismay. 
The  character  and  conduct  of  Louis  of  Bourbon  were 
now  fully  understood  and  freely  condemned.  A  con- 
clave of  cardinals  was  assembled;  and  Onofrio  di 
Santa-Croce,  bishop  of  Tricaria,  a  prelate  highly  ven- 
erated for  his  illustrious  birth  and  the  benevolence 
of  his  character,  was  intrtisted  with  a  legatine  com- 
mission to  examine  into  the  facts,  to  reconcile  the 
people  to  their  prince,  and  to  heal,  if  possible,  the 
wounds  which,  after  each  brief  interval  of  quiet, 
opened  and  bled  afresh. 

At  the  present  moment  Liege  was  tranquil  in  its 
weakness  and  prostration.  Its  trade  was  utterly  ru- 
ined, its  population  greatly  reduced,  its  vital  power 
seemingly  extinct.  Many  thousands  of  its  former 
inhabitants  were  roaming  through  the  wild  recesses 
of  the  Ardennes,  enduring  all  the  wants  and  miseries 
of  savage  life  untempered  by  the  instincts  and  habits 
of  a  savage  race.  The  Perron  was  gone ;  the  Violet 
was  empty  and  closed.  There  was  no  crowd  or 
perpetual  bustle  in  the  streets  and  markets,  no  gath' 


CBAF.  IV.] 


AKEIVAL  OF  THE  LEGATE. 


665 


ering  or  stormy  discussion  in  the  great  square.  The 
interdict  being  still  in  force,  the  churches  were  silent, 
and  Sundays  and  holidays  passed  by  unnoted  and 
unobserved.  The  only  sign  of  activity  displayed  was 
in  the  demolition  of  the  walls  and  fortifications,  which, 
under  the  direction  of  a  Burgundian  officer  charged 
with  the  superintendence  of  the  work,  made  slow  but 
constant  progress.  Humbercourt,  who  had  assumed 
the  chief  control  of  affairs,  carried  out  the  mandates 
of  his  master  in  the  stern  and  unrelenting  spirit  in 
which  they  had  been  conceived  —  confiscating  the 
property  of  the  fugitives,  and  executing  such  of  the 
more  notorious  offenders  as  had  remained  in  the  place 
or  occasionally  slunk  back  to  it  in  the  hope  of  escap- 
ing detection.  Meanwhile  the  pecuniary  demands 
of  the  conqueror  were  no  longer  to  be  satisfied  with 
the  promises  and  guaranties  of  an  impoverished  peo- 
ple; and  the  ecclesiastical  corporations  were  com- 
pelled to  mortgage  their  possessions  for  the  purpose 
of  raising  the  requisite  amount.'^ 

The  legate  arrived  in  April ;  and,  having  been  met 
and  escorted  into  the  city  by  the  bishop  and  a  solemn 
procession  of  the  clergy  and  monastic  orders,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  the  cathedral,  which  he  purified  by  asper- 
sion with  holy  water,  and,  pronouncing  the  interdict 
dissolved,  ordered  the  bells  to  be  rung  and  a  Te  Deum 
to  be  chanted.  On  the  following  day  Louis  of  Bourbon 
celebrated  his  first  mass  —  twelve  years  after  he  had 
assumed  the  episcopal  office.     By  this  revival  of  the 


l\VA 


Adriunus  de  Veteri-Bosco,  Ampliss.  Col.,  torn.  i.  pp.  1224,  1226. 


;i;i 


566 


CONDITION  OF  LIEGE. 


[book  n. 


J'' 


%u 


y  i'  '^ 


sacred  rites  and  of  that  ecclesiastical  pomp  which,  out 
of  Italy,  was  nowhere  exhibited  with  such  magnifi- 
cence as  at  Liege,  the  legate  sought  to  obliterate  some 
of  the  traces  of  its  recent  sufferings  and  to  restore 
to  the  city  some  semblance  of  its  former  splendor 
and  animation.  Nor  did  he  fail  to  express  his  sym- 
pathy with  a  people  so  long  and  so  heavily  afflicted. 
He  undertook  to  mediate  on  their  behalf  with  the 
Burgundian  prince,  and,  after  a  visit  to  Bruges,  re- 
turned with  permission  for  the  bishop,  in  concert  with 
certain  of  the  citizens,  to  draft  a  project  for  the  re- 
establishment  of  the  civic  government,  to  be  after- 
wards submitted  for  the  approval  of  the  duke.  This 
concession,  extorted  with  difficulty,  proved,  however, 
entirely  fruitless.  Louis  of  Bourbon,  indifferent  to 
the  woes  and  the  wishes  of  his  subjects,  after  dis- 
gusting every  eye  with  a  succession  of  ill-timed  fes- 
tivities, again  quitted  the  capital,  on  board  of  a  gayly 
painted  barge,  and  went  to  pass  the  summer  at 
Maestricht,  in  the  society  of  his  favorites  and  in  the 
amusements  of  a  frivolous  and  dissolute  liie.^ 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  at  Liege  v  hen  rumors 
of  impending  war,  and  of  immense  preparations  made 
by  the  king  of  France  with  the  purpose  of  crushing 
the  dnhe  of  Burgundy,  revived  the  hopes  of  those 
who,  with  so  much  reason,  regarded  the  latte^  prince 
as  their  enemy  and  oppressor.  Humbercourt  was 
recalled  by  Charles  to  assist  him  in  his  measures  for 
defence.     The  fermentation  spread  through  all  the 

'  Adrianus  de  Veteri-Bosco,  Am-    —  Excerpta  ex  Commentariis  Jacobi 
pliss.  Cul.,  torn.  iv.  p.  1226,  et  seq.     Ficcolomini,  De  Ram,  p.  374. 


■      4 


■  ■..  m 


CHAP.  IT.] 


RETURN  OF  THE  EXILES. 


567 


border  country;  and  the  exiles,  collecting  together 
in  bands,  poured  forth  from  the  forest  at  various 
points  into  the  valley  of  the  Meuse,  which  they  soon 
began  to  descend  in  the  direction  of  the  capital. 
Meeting  with  no  opposition,  they  entered  the  city, 
about  the  beginning  of  September,  with  shouts  of 
*^  Vive  le  Roy  r  Their  wild  and  squalid  aspect,  their 
haggard  cheeks  and  matted  hair,  their  half-naked 
bodies  wasted  by  famine,  struck  all  beholders  with 
amazement  and  pity.  They  had  ranged  themselves 
under  several  leaders,  of  whom  the  principal,  Jean  de 
Ville  and  Vincent  de  Buren.  v-ere  men  of  noble  birth, 
bred  in  the  manners  and  sentiments  of  chivalry,  and 
distinguished  by  courage  and  address.  Through  the 
influence  of  these  chiefs,  the  legate,  now  the  only 
person  in  the  capital  invested  with  high  official  func- 
tions, succeeded  in  maintaining  order,  and  in  persuad- 
ing the  inhabitants  to  abstain  from  precipitate  action 
and  to  promise  an  unqualified  obedience  to  their 
prince  on  condition  that  he  should  return  and  estab- 
lish a  regular  government  All  classes,  indeed,  though 
excited  by  the  prospect  of  recovering  their  indepen- 
dence, were  weary  of  civil  war,  and  acknowledged 
that  it  was  better  to  live  under  any  government, 
however  arbitrary  or  severe,  than  in  perpetual  anar- 
chy. To  the  exiles  it  seemed  a  sufficient  happiness 
to  find  theiiiselves  in  their  former  abodes,  amid  kin- 
dred and  friends,  and  the  comforts,  however  scanty, 
of  a  civilized  existence.  "  Better  any  fate,"  they  ex- 
claimed, "  at  home,  than  to  live  like  beasts  of  prey 
with  the  recollection  that  we  had  once  been  men ! " 


i 


li 


i;i 


i!    ,j!    i 


■  h\ 


isl 


#-1 


i  i 


i  a 
,!j  i 


\N 


568 


CONDITION  OF  LI^GE. 


[book  II. 


ft> 


i  t'l'  », 


''." 


Filled  with  the  earnest  desire  of  effecting  an  arrange- 
ment on  the  terms  proposed,  the  legate  went  in  per- 
son to  Maestricht,  and  succeeded  in  persuading  Louis 
to  set  out  with  him  for  the  capital.  But,  on  their 
arrival  at  Tongres,  three  leagues  from  Liege,  they 
were  met  by  Humbercourt,  with  a  body  of  troops, 
despatched  by  Charles  for  the  protection  of  the  bish- 
op, and  with  a  message  that  the  duke  would  shortly 
come,  at  the  head  of  all  his  forces,  to  suppress  and 
punish  the  revolt. 

There  now  remained  no  chance  for  a  peaceful  solu- 
tion of  the  difficulty.  The  bishop,  readily  abandoning 
a  scheme  which  was  foreign  to  his  temper  and  incli- 
nations, and  yielding  himself  up  to  the  direction  of 
his  powerful  protector,  fixed  his  residence  at  Tongres, 
and,  in  full  security  as  to  the  event,  relapsed  into  his 
ordinary  habits.  When  this  news  was  received  in 
the  capital,  where  his  subjects  had  awaited  him  with 
a  feeling  of  credulous  enthusiasm,  —  preparing  to  go 
forth  and  meet  him  in  the  guise  of  supplicants,  and, 
falling  with  their  wives  and  children  at  his  feet,  to 
entreat  his  forgiveness  and  protection,  —  fury  and 
desperation  were  roused  in  every  breast.  There  was 
to  be,  then,  no  end  of  their  calamities  —  no  dawn 
after  the  dismal  night !  The  merciful  intentions  of 
the  Holy  Father,  who  had  sent  a  minister  to  pro- 
nounce their  pardon  and  to  alleviate  their  miseries, 
had  availed  them  nothing.  A  new  storm  was  gath- 
ering on  the  horizon,  and  well  they  knew  how  to 
calculate  its  progress  and  its  strength.  The  excite- 
ment of  the  popular  feeling  was  fanned  by  emissaries 


CHAT.  IT.] 


CAPTURE  OF  THE  BISHOP. 


569 


of  the  king  —  sent,  indeed,  at  an  earlier  period,  when 
the  first  symptoms  of  a  movement  certain  to  provoke 
the  anger  of  the  duke  of  Burgundy  had  suggested 
the  use  to  which  it  might  be  turned :  before  Charles 
had  consented  to  prolong  the  truce,  and  Louis  had 
made  a  corresponding  change  in  his  own  plans.  De 
Ville  and  his  associates  exerted  their  influence  with 
the  people  not  to  repress  the  agitation,  —  which,  in- 

■  deed,  would  have  been  impossible,  —  but  to  control 
and  direct  it  to  some  practicable  end.  Since  their 
prince  had  been  intercepted  in  his  return  by  the 
forces  of  the  enemy,  the  most  obvious  course  was  to 
attempt  his  liberation,  and,  if  successful,  to  conduct 
him  to  the  capital,  and  carry  out  the  project  to  which 

.  he  had  olready  gi  *^n  his  consent  and  which  had  been 
sanctioned  by  the  representative  of  Rome.  The  plan 
was  skilfully  arranged.  Tongres,  like  the  other  towns, 
having  levelled  its  defences  in  accordance  with  the 
recent  treaty,  every  thing  depended  on  the  sudden- 
ness and  stealthiness  of  the  surprise.  A  party  of  two 
thousand  picked  men,  well  armed,  and  led  by  Jean 
de  Ville,  —  himself  a  native  of  Tongres  and  the  for- 
mer captain  of  its  garrison,  —  set  out  from  Liege  by 
night,  found  the  Burgundian  troops,  though  superior 
ir  numbers,  wholly  unprepared  for  the  attack,  and, 
after  a  short  conflict,  drove  them  in  all  directions 
from  the  town.  A  band  was  quickly  posted  around 
the  houses  occupied  by  Humbercourt  and  the  bishop, 
who,  roused  from  their  slumbers  by  the  tumult  in  the 
streets,  sought  in  vain  some  mode  of  effecting  their 
escape.    The  bishop's  attendants,  who  attempted  to 


VOL.1. 


72 


I  f 


570 


CONDITION  OF  LI^OE. 


[book  II. 


m|<[ 

:9^:l^ 

B'l 

w«|];|i 

i 

|^3|^!k 

m 

bar  the  entrance,  were  speedily  overpowered  and  cut 
down.  But  Bourbon  himself  was  treated  by  his  cap- 
tors with  all  the  outward  tokens  of  respect  and  ven- 
eration. They  couched  their  determination  that  he 
should  return  with  them  to  Li%e  in  the  language  of 
a  supplication.  The  legate,  who  was  present,  and 
who  seemed  not  altogether  dissatisfied  with  the  turn 
which  the  affair  had  taken,  counselled  him  to  compli- 
ance. Having,  in  fact,  no  other  resource,  he  submitted  ' 
with  apparent  willingness  to  his  fate.  He  consented 
to  reestablish  the  civic  government,  accepted  of  De 
Ville  as  his  grand-mayor,  and  declared  that  he  would 
henceforth  govern  in  accordance  with  the  wishes  of 
his  people.  The  safety  of  his  person  would  have  been 
imperilled  by  a  different  course.  The  fierce  spirit  of  , 
a  triumphant  populace  displayed  itself  in  some  ex- 
cesses which  the  chiefs  were  powerless  to  prevent. 
Several  of  the  canons  of  Saint  Lambert's,  who  had  long 
before  been  proclaimed  traitors  at  the  Perron,  were 
murdered  in  the  bishop's  presence ;  and  the  archdea- 
con, Robert  de  Morialme,  a  man  especially  hated  for 
his  haughty  temper  and  contempt  of  the  people,  was 
hewn  in  pieces,  and  the  fragments  of  his  corpse  hurled 
in  brutal  sport  and  with  derisive  shouts  from  hand  to 
hand  among  the  crowd.  Humbercourt,  on  the  con- 
trary, being  regarded  merely  as  an  open  enemy,  was 
treated  with  the  courtesies  of  war ;  and  De  Ville,  to 
whom  he  had  surrendered  himself,  and  who  desired 
to  avoid  the  appearance  of  offering  a  defiance  to  the 
duke,  furnished  him  with  the  opportunity  for  escape.* 

*  Adrianus.  —  De  Los.  —  Ficcolomini.  —  Commines,  &c. 


OHAF.  nr.] 


EXCITEMENT  AT  P^RONNE. 


571 


These  occurrences  took  place  on  the  night  of  Oc- 
tober 9,  the  very  day  on  which  the  king  arrived 
at  Peronne.     The  report  was  carried  thither  with  a 
wonderful  celerity.     On  the  evening  of  the  11th  it 
was  communicated  to  the  duke  and  circulated  through 
the  town,  in  a  shape  which  it  owed,  perhaps,  merely 
to  r<  e  plastic  hand  of  Rumor,  but  which  was  marvel- 
lously well  suited  to  tell  with  due  effect  upon  the 
present  conjuncture.     "  Unnumbered  atrocities  had 
been  committed  by  the  men  of  Liege ;  the  bishop, 
Humbercourt,  the  papal  legate,  had  all  been  mur- 
dered ;  the  envoys  of  the  king  were  present,  aiding 
and  abetting  in  the  commission  of  these  crimes."  That 
such  a  piece  of  news  as  this  should  stir  to  its  depths 
a  nature  so  intense  and  stormy  in  its  passions  as  that 
of  Charles  —  that  the  tide  of  his  resentment  should 
set  with  vehement  and  overwhelming  force  against 
the  supposed  contriver  and  instigator  of  the  mischief 
—  was  natural :  the  more  natural,  the  more  certain, 
inasmuch  as  the  king  was  not  now  at  a  distance,  inac- 
cessible, leaving  others,  his  tools  and  victims,  to  bear 
the  brunt  of  that  wr'th  which  he  had  urged  them 
to  provoke,  but  in  the  presence  of  his  enemy,  at  his 
hearth,  come  hither   to  delude  him  with   specious 
promises  and  counterfeited  friendship,  having  all  the 
while  treachery  and  secret  malice  in  his  breast.     A 
double  train  had  been   fired,  without  concert,  yet 
simultaneously;  and  hence  the  violence  of  the  explo- 
sion.   At  the  moment  when  Louis,  with  eyes  directed 
only  on  the  fallacious  prey,  had  broken  from  his  cov- 
ert, the  bolt  was  shot  that  was  to  reach  him  just  as 


i<  Wir 


i:  •■  I 


\\  ■ 

1 


k 


m 


1 


3*  ' 

it 


t 


{    ft' 


Li 


672 


THE  KINO  AT  PERONNE. 


[book  II. 


he  discover'^"'  'mm  deluHion.  lie  had  arrived  at  Pd- 
ronne  in  .ime  hour  as  the  most  bitter  and  invet- 

erate of  his  personal  enemies.  He  had  entered  the 
castle  while  the  men  of  Li^jge  were  setting  out  for 
Tongres.  Not  an  eye  that  watched  him  to  the  place 
of  refuge  he  had  chosen  but  was  fixed  in  wonderment 
and  speculation.  No  one,  however  sage,  however 
indifferent,  but  had  asked  the  questions,  —  if  not  of 
others,  yet  of  himself,  —  Would  the  arch-plotter  be 
suffered  to  escape  unharmed  from  this  trap  of  his 
own  setting?  Would  the  arch-enemy,  who  had  so 
lately  menaced  the  house  of  Burgundy  with  destruc- 
tion, and  who  had  desisted  from  an  open  attack  only 
that  he  might  first  by  secret  craft  undermine  its  foun- 
dations, be  permitted,  now  that  this  latter  purpose  was 
frustrated,  to  depart  and  put  in  practice  his  earlier 
design  ?  Every  thing  had  -conspired  to  the  expecta- 
tion, and  through  the  expectation  to  the  production, 
of  a  catastrophe.  If  nothing  else,  the  sudden  alarm 
which  Louis  had  himself  exhibited  would  have  been 
sufficient  to  suggest  it  —  an  alarm  which  betrayed 
the  instinctive  habits  of  his  own  mind,  which  recalled 
every  well  known  instance  of  his  own  perfidy  and 
double  dealing,  and  which  seemed  to  anticipate  the 
opportune  and  natural  retribution. 

That  Charles  should  have  witnessed  this  exhibition 
of  fear,  and  listened  to  the  surmises,  the  hints, —  nay, 
rather  to  the  positive  suggestions  and  instigations, — 
of  those  who  had  so  strong  an  interest  in  profiting 
by  this  rare  opportunity,  without  feeling  the  influence 
of  the  temptation,  is  scarcely  to  be  supposed.    But  his 


euAf.  XV.] 


TUB  GATES  CLOSED. 


673 


was  not  a  nature  to  set  aside,  with  cool  deliberation 
or  with  an  eagerncHS  inspired  by  the  mere  facility 
of  the  act,  those  moral  obstacles  which  stood  in  the 
way.  It  had  needed  the  flood  tide  of  passion  to 
sweep  down  such  a  barrier ;  something  was  wanting 
to  give  an  impetus  to  the  current ;  and  now,  at  the 
last  moment,  that  impetus  I  1  come.  Exclamations 
that  he  had  been  betrayed  —  that  the  king's  visit 
and  pretended  desire  for  peace  had  been  designed 
merely  to  lull  him  into  a  false  security  and  to  blind 
him  to  the  foul  villany  that  was  concocting  —  were 
coupled  with  menaces,  with  vows  that  satisfaction 
should  be  exacted ;  and  thus  the  first  step  —  that 
which  was  necessary  for  securing  the  opportunity  ere 
it  slipped  by — was  easily  made.  Orders  were  issued 
that  the  gates  of  the  castle  and  of  the  town  should 
be  closed,  the  guards  doubled,  and  no  one  permitted 
to  enter  or  depart  without  the  special  license  of  the 
duke.  Even  these  measures,  however,  were  not  taken 
without  an  indication  of  his  reluctance  to  commit 
himself  irrevocably.  It  was  given  out  that  a  casket 
of  jewels  had  been  missed,  and  that  these  precautions 
were  adopted  in  order  that  a  thorough  search  might 
be  made.  "A  poor  pretext,"  remarks  Commines;  but 
any  pretext  would  have  been  idle  to  excuse  the  vio- 
lation of  a  safe-conduct  which  declared  that  the  king 
and  his  servants  should  meet  with  no  hinderance  or 
detention  for  any  cause  then  existing  or  that  might 
thereafter  arise."  '     . 

We  are  told  that  Louis,  in  his  eagerness  for  the 


1;      it' 


.,i.J.'* 


>  Commiujg,  torn.  i.  pp.  161, 162. 


574 


TIIE  KINO  AT  PERONNE. 


[hook  II. 


i 


n 


::  1 


interview,  had  forgotten  the  emi.sflnries  whom  he  had 
denpatched  to  Liege."  With  so  many  delicate  wires 
to  watch  and  govern,  it  was  not  surprising  if  they 
Boinetimes  became  tangled  and  the  movements  de- 
ranged. Yet  ho  had  probably  no  reason  for  calculat- 
ing on  an  outbreak  until  his  own  attack  should  have 
given  the  signal;  and  the  actual  course  of  events 
owed  little  or  nothing  to  his  impulse  or  direction. 
But  he  had  no  sooner  received  the  intelligence  than 
he  foresaw  and  prepared  himself  for  the  effect.  He 
gave  way  to  a  most  natural  outburst  of  indignation 
at  crimes  so  astounding,  and  protested  loudly,  par 
la  Pasgue-Dieu,  that,  if  his  fair  cousin  of  Burgundy 
undertook  the  punishment  of  the  perpetrators,  he 
himself  should  desire  to  accompany  and  aid  him.' 
Meanwhile  he  found  himself  a  prisoner,  deprived  of 
the  opportunity  of  giving'public  expression  to  these 
sentiments,  of  manifesting  his  warm  and  entire  sym- 
pathy with  the  general  feeling.  But  it  needed  no 
communication  from  the  outer  world  to  inform  him 
of  what  was  there  going  on.  The  various  "murmurs" 
throughout  the  town,  the  inquiries,  the  conjectures, 
the  innumerable  rumors  that  passed  from  mouth  to 
mouth,  the  closed  lips  but  grave  and  ominous  looks 
of  the  officials,  the  movements  of  troops,  the  depar- 
ture and  arrival  of  messengers  and  couriers,  were 
audible  and  visible  enough  to  a  fancy  so  suspicious 


"  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  159,  prise,  jura  la  Pasque-Dieu,  que  se 

'  "  S'en  esmerveilla  fort,  et  de  mondit  Sieur  de  Bourgogne  vouloit 

peur  que  mondit  Sieur  le  Due  ne  aller  mettre  le  Biege  en  ladite  cit6, 

doutast  qu'il  fust  occasion  de  ladite  qu'il  iroit"    Lenglet,  torn.  iii.  p.  21. 


CHAP.  IT.] 


ins  FATE  IN  SUSPENSE. 


576 


and  alert.  Much,  too,  of  what  was  passing  in  the 
council-chamber  —  the  schemes  for  disposing  of  him 
and  for  profiting  most  largely  by  his  folly :  the  ex- 
treme measures  and  vehement  arguments  of  his  more 
violent  enemies,  the  cooler  propositions  of  the  more 
politic — would  find  a  faithful  and  fearful  echo  in  his 
own  brain.  He  comprehended  all  the  chances  of  his 
fate.  He  knew  that  the  imprisonment  of  kings  is 
seldom  of  a  long  duration; — if  the  body  be  not  speed- 
ily released,  the  soul  must  be  set  free.  Ilis  detention 
would  occasion  the  establishment  of  a  regency,  and 
lead  to  an  immediate  war ;  by  his  death  the  crown 
would  at  once  devolve  upon  his  brother,  whose  right 
there  was  no  one  to  dispute,  whose  authority,  how- 
ever foully  acquired,  must  be  ^rcknowledged  by  all, 
and  who  would  scarcely  be  disposed  to  call  to  a  stern 
account  those  who  had  opened  his  pathway  from 
exile  to  the  throne.  Whatever,  therefore,  could  be 
done  to  influence  the  decision  must  be  attempted  at 
once.  Louis  had  provided  himself  with  a  sum  of 
money — fifteen  thousand  gold  crowns — for  such  oc- 
casions of  investment  in  the  Burgundian  court  as 
might  promise  a  return  in  secret  intelligence  and 
other  friendly  offices.  He  had  iiow  an  ample  motive 
for  the  outlay.  Some  of  his  people,  who  had  been 
lodged  in  the  town,  obtained  permission  to  visit  him, 
being  admitted  through  the  postern ;  and  to  them  he 
was  fain  to  intrust  the  distribution.  But  a  great  por- 
tion of  the  amount  stuck  in  the  pockets  of  his  agents, 
who  considered  that  the  chance  was  small  of  their 
ever  being  summoned  to  a  reckoning.   Luckily,  there 


I ' 


f?  ji; 


M 


m 


k 
.  ■:  ■  i 


Mi* 


.*     I 


576 


THE  KING  AT  PiUONNE. 


[book  n. 


were  those  who,  whether  in  return  for  past  favors,  or 
in  the  expectation  of  future  gratitude,  or  from  motives 
of  an  altogether  different  character,  had  the  inclina- 
tion and  the  power  to  render  him  essential  service 
in  this  most  critical  position. 

During  two  days  he  remained  in  ciiis  suspense,  and 
his  fate  was  still  undecided.  The  debates  in  the  coun- 
cil were  earnest  and  protracted.  On  one  point  alone 
there  was  unanimity  of  opinion.  No  one  thought  of 
proposing  an  unconditional  release,  a  retraction  from 
the  course  which  had  been  entered  upon  under  the 
impulse  of  passion,  a  return  to  the  strict  path  of 
honor  and  good  faith.  The  first  step  from  that  path 
was  an  irrevocable  one.  The  assault  had  been  com- 
mitted ;  the  risk  had  been  incurred ;  and  even  those 
who  desired  that  a  retreat  should  be  made  must  look 
for  a  secure  route  by  whicE  to  effect  it.  Some  were 
for  going  boldly  forward  to  a  prompt  and  conclusive 
solution.  By  others  it  was  proposed  that  Charles  of 
France  should  be  sent  for;  that  a  treaty  should  be 
framed  to  include  all  the  great  princes;  that  the 
kingdom  should  be  governed  by  them,  and  the  king 
remain  a  prisoner  by  their  authority  and  at  their 
discretion.  This  view,  urged  by  the  smaller  number 
but  with  the  greater  vehemence,  seemed  at  one  time 
about  to  prevail.  Letters  were  written ;  and  a  cou- 
rier, equipped  for  travel,  waited  only  to  receive  his 
final  orders  from  the  duke.^    But  the  chancellor  of 

*  "  turent  les  choses  ei  pres,  que  mandie,  estanten  Bretaigne :  etn'at- 

je  veiz  ung  homme  housd  et  prest  h  tendoit  que  les    lettres   du    due." 

partir,  qui  ja  avoit  plusieurs  lettres  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  172. 
addressantes  h,  monseigneur  de  Nor- 


CRAF.  IV.] 


HIS  FATE  IN  SUSPENSE. 


577 


Burgundy  °  and  a  majority  of  the  council — men  who 
had  received  their  training  and  formed  their  opinions 
and  ideas  in  the  service  of  Philip  the  Good,  to  whom 
there  was  still  some  sacredness  in  the  royalty  of 
Franco,  some  significance  in  the  phrases  of  chivalry, 
some  glory  in  the  reputed  honor  of  the  house  of 
Burgundy  —  were  averse  to  projects  of  violence  and 
flagrant  treason  that  must  cast  even  deeper  odium 
on  their  sovereign  than  his  grandfather  had  formerly 
incurred,  and  cause  his  reign,  like  that  of  John,  to 
be  one  of  turbulence  and  blood.  The  course  which 
they  proposed  seemed  to  promise  the  double  advan- 
tage of  securing  the  spoils  and  suppressing  the  scan- 
dal. The  king  had  com%  to  Peronne  with  the  avowed 
object  of  negotiating  a  treaty  with  Charles  that  should 
extinguish  all  existing  causes  of  dissension ;  and  he 

had  intimated  his  readiness  to  make  such  concessions 

* 

as  were  necessary  for  that  end.  Let  a  treaty,  accord- 
ingly, be  drawn  up,  with  these  and  other  provisions 
for  satisfying  the  just  demands  of  the  duke,  his  vas- 
sals and  allies,  granting  them  redress  for  past  injuries 
and  security  against  future  encroachments ;  and  let 
this  instrument  be  presented  to  Louis  for  his  signa- 
ture and  oath.  He  had,  also,  of  his  own  free  impulse, 
declared  his  wish  to  assist  in  the  punishment  of  Liege. 
Let  the  offer  be  accepted ;  let  him,  attended  by  a  body 
of  his  own  troops,  accompany  the  Burgundian  army 
in  its  expedition  against  the  rebellious  city.  By  such 
a  course  he  would  clear  himself  from  the  imputation 


111 

I'     m 


*r 


'  Lamarcfae,  torn.  ii.  p.  286. 


VOL.  I. 


73 


■    V 


f  "I 


in)     i 


578 


THE  KING  AT  PERONNE. 


[book  II. 


of  having  instigated  the  revolt,  stifle  forever  the  de- 
lusive hopes  of  the  people  founded  on  his  former 
professions,  and  convince  the  world  that  the  enemies 
of  the  house  of  Burgundy  had  nothing  to  gain  by 
accepting  the  king  of  France  for  their  patron  or  by 
seeking  his  alliance  and  protection. 

The  heads  of  a  treaty  such  as  had  been  suggested 
were  privately  communicated  to  the  king.  His  min- 
isters attempted  vainly  to  obtain  some  modification 
of  the  terms.  But  the  question  still  remained  whether 
Charles  would  give  his  final  assent  to  this  arrange- 
ment, or  yield  to  the  urgings  of  his  more  violent 
advisers  and  to  those  darker  passions  of  his  own 
breast  which  prompted  him  lo  a  complete  and  ade- 
quate revenge.  How  intense  was  the  struggle  we 
may  partly  gather  from  the  brief  but  graphic  descrip- 
tion left  us  by  Philippe  de  Commines,  who  was  then 
in  close  attendance  on  the  duke's  person,  and,  with 
one  other  chamberlain,  remained  in  his  apartment 
after  the  rest  of  the  household  had  retired.  The 
nights  were  sleepless,  and  passed  in  a  perplexity  and 
agitation  scarcely  more  tolerable  than  the  anxiety 
endured  by  the  king.  Sometimes  Charles  threw  him- 
self upon  his  couch,  as  if  to  still  the  fever  that  disor- 
dered his  thoughts  and  prevented  him  from  choosing 
his  course  with  his  usual  clearness  of  intellect  and 
rapidity  of  will.  But,  quickly  starting  from  an  atti- 
tude that  was  far  from  bringing  him  any  interval  of 
repose,  he  again  paced  the  floor  with  a  swift  and  heavy 
tread,  at  times  venting  his  passion  in  broken  but 
fiery  exclamations,  and  anon  turning  to  his  compan- 


CHAP.  IV.] 


ras  FATE  IN  SUSPENSE. 


579 


10 


ions  and  discussing,  in  a  less  abrupt  if  not  less  vehe- 
ment tone,  the  provocation  he  had  received  and  the 
satisfaction  which  it  was  in  his  power  to  extort 
The  historian,  who  skilfiJIy  used  these  opportunities 
for  allaying  the  storm,  tells  us  that,  had  any  of  the 
personal  enemies  of  the  king  been  present,  they 
would  then  have  found  little  difficulty  in  effecting 
his  ruin.  But  there  was  no  lack,  throughout  the 
day,  of  occasions  for  fanning  the  flame ;  and  this 
private  and  internal  conflict  was  wholly  natural  in  a 
mind  so  constituted,  in  which  so  much  of  violence 
and  sternness  was  mingled  with  strong  instincts  of 
equity  and  honor.  On  the  third  morning  (October 
14)  the  fury  of  the  duke's  passion  seemed  to  have 
attained  its  height.  All  were  prepared  for  some  ter- 
rible determination.  But  again  the  waves  subsided. 
By  a  strong  effort  Charles  appeared  to  clutch  the 
decision  which  was  at  once  the  most  politic  and  the 
least  criminal ;  and,  as  if  to  allow  of  no  time  for  the 
recurrence  of  a  vacillation  so  foreign  to  his  habitual 
temper,  he  summoned  a  few  of  his  attendants,  and, 
accompanied  by  them,  suddenly  presented  himself 
l)efore  the  king. 

There  had  been  time,  however,  for  "  a  friend "  — 
and  we  can  have  no  hesitation  in  believing  that 
Commines  here  indicates  himself — to  give  warning 
privately  to  Louis  of  the  visit  he  was  about  to  re- 

"  Comminee,  torn.  i.  pp.  162, 173.  night:   "Want  ic  certifHere  u  dat 

—  A  letter,  in  Flemish,  written  from  het  dezen  nacht  niet  wel  claer  ghe- 

Peronne,  on  Oct.  14,  to  the  magis  •  sta^^n  heeft."    Gachard,  Doc.  InM., 

trates  of  Ypres,  contains  an  allusion  torn.  i.  p.  200. 
to  the  discussion  of  the  previous 


a 


ili 


580 


THE  KING  AT  P^HONNE. 


[book  II. 


K,i 


ceive,  and  of  the  hazard  he  would  incur  by  failing  to 
agree  to  any  proposals  that  might  be  made."  Thus 
prepared,  it  cost  him,  nevertheless,  a  struggle  to  pre- 
serve an  apparent  composure  at  the  abrupt  entrance 
of  the  duke.  His  pallid  look  and  shrinking  atti- 
tude betrayed  the  apprehensions  of  his  mind.  "  My 
cousin,"  he  asked,  "  am  I  not  safe  in  your  dominions 
and  under  your  roof?"  "  So  safe,  Monseigneur,"  was 
the  reply,  "  that  were  I  to  see  an  arquebuse  aimed  at 
you,  I  would  place  myself  before  you  to  receive  the 
shaft." ''^  But  the  voice  which  gave  him  this  assur- 
ance trembled  with  suppressed  passion ;  and,  though 
Charles  constrained  himself  to  assume  the  attitude 
and  language  that  became  a  vassal  in  the  presence 
of  his  sovereign,  his  tones  and  gestures  failed  not  to 
convey  the  fearful  menace  that  was  hovering  on  his 
lips.'"'  Fixing  his  eyes  on  Louis,  he  inquired  whether 
it  were  his  pleasure  to  accept  the  treaty  which  had 
been  submitted  to  his  inspe<^tion.  The  king,  acting 
on  the  hint  that  had  been  given  him,  hastened  to 
declare  that  ther*^  was  nothing  which  he  so  much 


111 


1p       jf' 


^•t■<-- 


'•  The  language  of  Commines  him- 
self is,  "  Le  Roy  eut  quelque  amy 
qui  Ten  advertit."  Tom  i.  p.  174. 
See  Mdlle.  Dupont'a  note,  where, 
however,  the  date  of  1470,  instead 
of  1473,  ia  erroneously  given  as  that 
of  the  letters  patent  iu  which  Louis 
acknowledges  the  "  singular  ser- 
vices "  he  had  received  from  Com- 
mines while  at  Pdronne.  (Lenglet, 
torn.  iv.  par.  2,  p.  133.) 

'*  "  Si  tost  qu'il  veit  cntrer  le  due 
en  sa  chambre,  il  ne  peu  celer  sa 


peur :  et  dit  au  due,  '  Mon  frdre,  no 
suis  je  pas  seur  en  vostre  maison,  ct 
en  vostre  pais  ? '  Et  le  due  luy  re- 
spondit,  '  Ouy,  Monsieur :  et  si  seur, 
que,  si  je  voyoye  venir  un  trait  d'a.'- 
baleste  sur  vous,  je  me  mettroye  au- 
devant  pour  vous  guarantir.' "  La- 
marche,  torn.  ii.  p.  287. 

"  "  La  voix  luy  trembloit,  tant  il 
estoit  esmeu  et  prest  de  se  courrou- 
cer.  II  feit  humble  contenance  de 
corps,  mais  sa  geste  et  parolle  estoit 
aspre."    Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  174. 


"  i; 


CHAF.  IV.]  THE  TRUE  CROSS  OF  SAINT-LAUD. 


581 


t,  tant  il 
jourrou- 
ance  de 
c  estoit 
i.  174. 


desired  as  to  lay  this  finn  foundation  of  a  lasting 
peace.  Was  he  also  prepared,  in  accordance  with  his 
previous  offer,  to  join  in  punishing  the  treason  com- 
mitted by  the  people  of  Li^ge,  in  his  name  and 
under  color  of  his  alliance,  against  his  own  kinsman, 
a  brother  of  the  duke  of  Bourbon,  a  member  of  the 
royal  house  of  Valois?  To  this  question  he  again 
replied  in  the  affirmative,  adding,  '•  Let  us  firsi,  fair 
cousin,  confirm  with  our  oaths  the  peace  to  whicli  we 
have  both  agreed,  and  then  I  am  ready  to  march  with 
you  against  Li^ge  with  as  few  or  as  many  troops  i-.^ 
you  ma}-  desire."  The  treaty  Wtis  then  produced ; 
and,  at  the  same  time,  the  king's  attendants  bi  ought 
from  his  coffers,  in  which  it  was  always  carried,  a 
piece  of  the  true  cross,  called  the  Rood  of  Victory, 
or  of  Saint-Laud  —  the  latter  being  the  name  of  the 
shrine  at  Angers  in  which  it  had  been  deposited  by 
Charlemagne,  its  original  possessor.  For  this  relic 
Louis  was  known  to  entertain  an  extraordinary  ven- 
eration ;  and  rumor  attributed  to  him  the  belief,  that, 
were  he  to  break  a  vow  thus  witnessed,  his  life  would 
end  within  the  year.  It  was  rarely,  therefore,  as  may 
well  be  supposed,  that  its  miraculous  virtue  was  put 
to  the  test.  But  the  present  was  not  fin  occasiori  for 
any  scruple  or  hesitation  on  such  a  point.  The  oath 
was  administered  by  Cardinal  Balue ;  the  notary 
affixed  his  seal  with  the  usual  formalities ;  and,  proc- 
lamation of  the  treaty  being  forthwith  made,  the  bells 
of  the  town  were  rung  in  token  of  rejoicing.  After- 
wards the  two  princes  dined  at  the  same  table,  and 
rode  together  through  the  streets.    It  was  necessary 


II 


K  ill 


It' 


582 


THE  KINO  AT  P^:RONNE. 


[nooK  II. 


that  the  people  should  witness  their  cordiality  and 
the  joy  of  Louis  at  having  effected  a  settlement  the 
hope  of  which  had  brought  him  to  Peronne.'* 

The  instrument  thus  s'v^orn  to  and  thus  published 
contained  merely  a  summary  of  the  various  conces- 
sions granted  by  the  king,  and  was  in  the  nature,  in 
fact,  of  a  preamble  to  a  more  elaborate  document,  or 
series  of  documents,  subsequently  prepared  and  duly 
ratified,  wherein  all  the  articles  were  specified  with 
the  greatest  minuteness  and  with  the  requisite  forms. 
A  perusal  of  the  vhole  document  carries  with  it  the 
conviction  that  the  Burgundian  court  was  not  less 
amply  supplied  with  skilful  lawyers  and  subtle  casu- 
ists than  with  bold  warriors  or  with  functionaries 
qualified  to  arbitrate  on  the  nicest  points  of  heraldry 
and  of  etiquette.  No  question  that  had  ever  been 
mooted  between  Charles  o*  any  of  his  predecessors 
and  the  French  king  was  overlooked.  Many  privi- 
leges were  extorted  to  Avhich  there  had  been  before 
no  claim  or  pretence.  The  border  line  of  the  king's 
dominions,  where  they  trenched  on  those  of  ihe  duke, 
was  contracted  and  rigidly  defined.  Louis  was  made 
to  relinquish  inherent  rights  and  inalienable  prerog- 
atives of  his  crown.  The  courts  of  Flanders  were 
relieved  from  the  appellate  jurisdiction  of  the  Par- 
liament of  Paris.  The  sanction  of  the  sovereign  was 
given  to  the  alliance  subsisting  between  his  vassal 
and  the  king  of  England,  "our  enemy  and  adversary." 

'*  Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  175.  —  Letter  of  one  of  the  king's  attend- 

Lamarche,    torn.   ii.    p.  287. — Ga-  ants,  in  Wavriu  de  Foresttl,  An- 

chard,  Doc.  Incd.,  torn.  i.  p.  200.  —  chiennes  Cronicques,  torn.  ii. 
Lenglet,  torn.  i.  pp.  17,  22,  et  al.  — 


CBAF.  lY.] 


TREATY  OF  PERONNE. 


583 


L'erog- 


'sary. 


But  the  most  remarkable  clauses  were  those  by  which 
security  was  taken  against  any  violation  of  the  treaty, 
and  a  mode  provided  for  obtaining  redress.  Should 
Louis  fail,  in  any  particular,  to  carry  into  effect  the 
obligations  he  had  contracted,  or  hereafter  rescind 
them,  or  fraudulently  evade  them,  or  connive  at  such 
evasion  by  others,  the  duke  of  Burgundy  and  his 
heirs,  their  subjects  and  their  states,  were  to  be 
thenceforth  and  forever  absolved  from  their  allegi- 
ance to  the  crown  of  France,  relieved  from  every  de- 
mand of  homage,  service,  feudal  aids,  or  other  mark 
of  subjection.  In  the  same  event,  all  the  princes  of 
the  blood  were  authorized  and  even  expressly  com- 
manded, not  merely  in  these  general  terms,  but  by 
letters  bearing  the  sign  manual  and  severally  ad- 
dressed to  each, — letters  which  were  actually  written 
and  despatched,  —  to  levy  war  upon  the  monarch 
and  to  aid  the  injured  party  with  all  the  means  and 
power  at  their  command  in  the  recovery  of  his  rights. 
The  Church  was  invited,  in  the  like  contingency,  to 
hurl  its  interdicts,  excommunications,  "  aggravations 
and  reaggravations,"  at  the  person  and  dominions  of 
the  Most  Christian  King,  who  hereby  renounced,  for 
himself  and  his  successors,  the  ancient  claim  of  their 
line  to  exemption  from  ecclesiastical  censures.  In  a 
word,  the  penalties  which  Louis  would  incur  by  any 
failure  to  comply  with  his  engagements  would  amount 
to  a  forfeiture  of  his  sovereignty  and  possessions.^'* 

There  was  but  one  flaw  to  be  discovered  in  the 
treaty.    It  was  too  carefully,  too  skilfully,  too  elabo- 

'*  Lenglet,  torn.  iii.  pp.  22-64. 


Vi/   I 


\ 


J 


r- 


4  >  \ 


M 


I*" 


584 


THE  KING  AT  PERONNE. 


[book   IK. 


rately  drawn.  It  bore  on  every  line  the  stamp  of  its 
origin  J  it  revealed  the  whole  story  of  the  circum- 
stances under  which  it  had  been  framed.  No  one 
could  imagine  that  this  was  such  an  arrangement  as 
Louis  himself  had  had  in  contemplation.  No  one 
would  be  induced  to  believe  that  he  had  descended 
from  his  strong  position  for  the  mere  purpose  of  lis- 
tening to  "  the  complaints  and  grievances "  of  his 
cousin  of  Burgundy,  o.f  giving  to  every  statement 
seriaUm  an  unqualified  assent,  of  meeting  every  de- 
mand with  an  unconditional  compliance.'"  Though 
he  himself  should  be  as  desirous  of  hiding  his  folly 
and  humiliation  as  his  enemies  of  concealing  their 
perfidy  and  violence,  the  proofs  would  be  patent  and 
irrefragable.  Cannons  might  roar  and  bonfires  blaze 
in  celebration  of  the  peace;'''  but  the  public  eye  would 
penetrate  through  the  smoke  and  flame,  through  the 
thick  walls  of  the  castle  of  Pdronne,  to  a  dungeon 
where  the  king,  surrounded  and  menaced  by  his  jail- 
ors, wrote  with  a  trembling  hand  whatever  they  chose 
to  dictate. 

It  is  remarkable  that  no  mention  is  to  be  found  in 
the  treaty  of  a  provision  which  it  is  nevertheless  cer- 
tain, from  the  testimony  of  well  informed  writers  as 
well  as  from  the  subsequent  course  of  events,  made 


'•  "  S'ensuivint  les  doleances,  re- 
monstrances et  requestes  de  nostre- 
dit  frere  et  cousin,  avec  les  provi- 
sions et  responses  par  nous  h,  luy 
aocordces  sur  chacune  d'icelles.  .  .  . 
Sur  cette  article  a  cstd  repondu  de 
par  le  Roy,  qu'il  est  content,"  &c. 


Such  is  the  form  of  the  treaty. 
"  Rejoicings  were  every  where  or- 
dered by  the  king.  We  find  Charles, 
on  the  other  hand,  forbidding  the 
peace  to  be  celebrated  in  his  domin- 
ions till  ai\er  his  return  from  Lidge. 
Gachard,  Doc.  Indd.,  torn.  L  p.  199. 


/ 


M 


OHAF.  IT.] 


TREATY  OF  PilRONNE. 


585 


an  important  part  of  the  arrangement.    It  would 
indeed  have  been  strange  if  the  claims  of  Charles  of 
France  had  been  overlooked  on  an  occasion  like  the 
present ;  but,  though  the  terms  of  the  settlement  are 
known,  it  ia  uncertain  whether  they  formed  the  sub-» 
ject  of  a  separate  and  secret  treaty  or  of  a  mere 
verbal  engagement.    The  king  was  not  again  com- 
pelled —  perhaps,  even  in  his  present  circumstances, 
could  not  have  been  compelled  —  to  surrender  Nor- 
mandy into  the  hands  of  his  brother.   Ills  own  former 
offer  of  Champagne  and  La  Brie  was  now  renewed 
and  accepted,  with  the  more  readiness  inasmuch  as 
these  provinces  marched  with  the  Burgundian  domin- 
ions, and  would  be  occupied,  defended,  and  controlled 
by  the  forces  and  authority  of  the  Burgundian  prince. 
During  the  absence  of  Louis  the  count  of  Dammar- 
tin  remained  in  command  of  the  royal  army.     His 
responsibilities,  at  such  a  conjuncture,  must  be  of  the 
gravest  description.     He  could  not  be  ignorant  of 
much  that  was  passing  at  P^ronne  —  of  the  violation 
of  the  safe-conduct,  of  the  indications  that  some  fur- 
ther movement  was  in  contemplation  or  in  progress. 
Yet  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  act  with  the  greatest 
caution.   Any  step  taken  hastily  or  in  the  dark  would 
only  have  the  effect  of  adding  to  the  embarrassments 
and  perils  of  a  situation  from  which  there  was  no  pos- 
sibility of  immediate  and  forcible  extrication.    While, 
therefore,  he  strengthened  himself  with  fresh  reen- 
forcements,'^  and  sent  notice  to  the  Burgundian  court 

"  We  find  a  general  levy  ordered    of  the  meeting  at  P^ronne.    (De 
in  Paris  on  Oct.  8,  on  the  very  eve    Troyes,  p.  76.)     It  might  be  in- 


Ati 


'1  1 


■ll        M 


VOL.  I. 


74 


m 


'n 


ffii 


^  I 


ii  ^ 


G86 


TUE  KINO  AT  PERONNE. 


[UOOK    II. 


of  his  purpose  and  preparations  to  protect  or  avenge 
his  master,  he  abstained  from  any  overt  act  of  hos- 
tility. To  letters  which  he  received  from  the  king 
commanding  him  to  retire  from  the  frontier  '^  he  gave 
no  heed.  Even  if  genuine,  he  could  not  regard  them 
as  voluntary  acts  of  the  person  whose  signature  they 
bore.  Yet  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  in  giving 
these  orders  Louis  was  perfectly  sincere.*""  lie  was 
now  reconciled  to  his  fate.  One  effort  he  had  made 
to  escape  what  he  justly  considered  as  the  most  griev- 
ous of  the  penalties  imposed  upon  him.  He  had 
endeavored  to  obtain  a  release  from  his  promise  to 
accompany  Charles  to  Liege"*  offering,  if  permitted 
to  return  to  France,  to  exert  his  influence  with  his 
allies  for  the  purpose  of  inducing  them  to  make  rep- 
aration for  the  wrongful  acts  they  had  committed, — 
the  nature  and  extent  oT  which  were  now  better 


ferred  that  Louis  himself,  even  at 
the  moment  of  taking  this  rash  leap, 
was  not  without  apprehension  as  to 
the  result. 

'»  Cal  '.et  (le  Louis  XL;  Len- 
glet,  torn.  ii.  p.  227,  et  scq. 

*"  There  is  a  striking  difference, 
in  the  style  and  form  of  expression, 
between  the  two  letters.  It  does  not 
follow,  however,  that  the  first  —  so 
cold,  formal,  prolix,  and  uncharac- 
teristic—  must,  as  Miehclct  suggests, 
have  been  either  forged  or  wrifteu 
under  a  compulsory  dictation.  It 
seems  to  indicate  rather  a  temporary 
mental  paralysis.  The  constraint  is 
internal,  but  it  is  not  the  less  hard 
and  benumbing.  In  the  second  let- 
ter, of  precisely  the  same  purport, 
written  some  days  later,  from  Namur, 


Louts  is  all  himself.  The  style  is 
very  characteristic  :  "  Tenez  vous 
seur,  que  je  ne  vay  en  ce  voyage  du 
Lidgc  par  contrainte  nuUe,  et  que  je 
n'aUay  oncques  de  si  bon  coeur  en 
voyage  commc  je  fais  en  cettuy-cy. 
.  .  .  Monsieur  le  Grand  Mai8tre,mon 
ami,  vous  m'avez  bien  monstrc  que 
m'aimez,  et  m'avez  fait  le  plus  grand 
service  que  pourriez  faire  j  car  Ics 
gens  de  Monsieur  de  liourgogne 
eusseut  cuide,  que  je  les  eusse  voulu 
trompre,  et  ceux  de  par-dcla  cussent 
cuidc,  que  j'eusse  esto  perdu  prison- 
nier ;  ainsi  par  dufiuncc  les  uns  des 
autres,  j'cistois  perdu,"  Lenglet, 
tom.  ii.  p.  228. 

*'  "  Se  voulut  repentir  de  son  voy- 
age dc  Liege."  Lenglet,  tom.  iii. 
p.  22. 


UOOK    II. 


CHAP.  IT.]  LOUIS  RECONCILED  TO  mS  FATE. 


587 


m 


known,  —  and  promising,  if  lie  failed  in  this  ntteiupt, 
to  return  within  a  stated  time  and  fulfil  his  oii<rinal 
contract.  He  propo.sed  to  leave  as  hostages  the  pon- 
stable,  the  duke  of  Bourbon,  and  other  great  nobles 
and  ministers  of  state,  who,  though  inwardly  con- 
vinced that  no  considerations  in  regard  to  their  safety 
would  induce  the  king  again  to  jeopardize  his  own 
person,  professed  iri  public  their  willingness  to  become 
his  sureties.'"  But  he  who  lies  beneath  the  lion's 
paw  does  wisely  in  refraining  from  any  attempt,  in 
suppressing  even  the  inclination,  to  rise.  Warned 
of  the  danger  and  the  hopelessness  of  further  resist- 
ance, Louis  ceased  to  struggle  with  his  bonds.  From 
that  moment  he  seems  to  have  recovered  his  habitual 
cheerfulness  and  self-possession.  Every  sign  of  re- 
luctance and  of  timidity  disappeared,  He  entered 
with  alacrity,  with  histrionic  fervor,  on  the  perform- 
ance of  his  shameful  task.  His  pages  and  other  at- 
tendants were  in  a  state  of  bewilderment  and  terror, 
expecting  every  moment  to  be  set  upon  and  slaugh- 
tered.-' But  there  was  nothing  in  the  demeanor  of 
the  king  himself  to  indicate  the  pressure  of  a  terrible 
necessity.    It  might  rather  have  been  supposed  that 


!!] 


\v<  1 


**  "Ceulx  que  le  Roy  nommoit 
pour  estre  ostaigc^,  se  offiroient  fort, 
au  moins  en  public.  Je  nc  scay  s'ilz 
disoient  ainsi  h  part ;  je  me  doubte 
que  non.  Et  fi  la  verito,  je  croy  qu'il 
les  y  eust  laissez,  et  qu'il  ne  fust  pas 
revenu."    Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  172. 

u  "\Varend  all  Stund  wartcn, 
weun  iiiaa  uus  an  die  Kiipf  schliig. 
,  . .  AVarend  in  grosseu  Sorgen  Lybs 


und  licbens  by  den  Burgunem ;  denn 
wa  sie  Ein  Heimlich  mochten  ver- 
twuschen,  das  beschach."  (Ludwigs 
von  Diesbach  Selbstbiographie,  Der 
Schweizerische  Geschichtforscher,  B. 
viii.  s.  173.)  An  exaggeration,  we 
may  hof  e.  Diesbach,  who  was  then 
a  mere  c.'"'l'V  retained  in  his  later 
)ears  a  vivid  recollection  of  the  fears 
and  perils  of  this  journey. 


588 


MARCH  AGAINST  U60E. 


[book  II. 


fi 


n 

I 


V 


!)i 


f 


i< 


|i  ■ 
I  ■  '■' 

bt"' 


the  expedition  against  Li{?ge  was  a  project  of  his  own 
conception,  the  crowning  acliiovement  of  his  negotia- 
tions at  Peronne. 

By  the  permission  —  or  perhaps  by  the  special 
desire  —  of  the  duke,  he  had  made  a  requicition  on 
his  lieutenant  for  three  hundred  men-at-arma;  and 
this  small  troop  was  promptly  sent  as  a  means,  how- 
ever insufficient,  of  affording  him  protection.  On  the 
17th  the  two  princes  set  out  for  Namur.  The  lilies 
of  France  were  unfurled  beside  the  standard  of  Bur- 
gundy. The  royalists,  in  obedience  to  their  master's 
orders,  assumed  the  badge  of  Burgundy,  which  he 
himself  wore  conspicuously  displayed  among  the 
leaden  images  on  his  hat.  Marching  "  like  a  merce- 
nary" in  the  ranks  of  his  foes,  —  of  those  whom  he 
feared  and  detested,  and  by  whom  he  was  feared  and 
detested  in  turn,  —  against  the  most  faithful  of  his 
allies,  against  those  who,  so  often  forsaken,  had  never 
forsaken  him,  he  seemed  content  with  his  situation, 
at  east  with  his  own  heart,  secure  of  the  good  opinion 
of  the  world.    Strange  spectacle !  strange  king !  "* 

But,  while  we  marvel  at  the  facility  and  apparent 
satisfaction  with  which  he  carried  his  heavy  burden 
of  dishonor,  we  cannot,  like  some  of  his  contempora- 
ries, regard  this  exhibition  with  feelings  of  unmixed 
contempt.  His  fortitude  and  self-command  were  not 
less  conspicuous  than  his  insensibility  to  shame.  Those 


•*  "  Prfficlarum  et  memorabile  fa- 

ciuus  hujus  regis  Francorum,  cui  for- 
tassis  vix  simile  aliud  vel  in  veteri- 
bus  annalibus,  vcl  in  recentioribus 
historiis  poterit  facile  inveniri,"  &c. 


Basin,  torn.  iii.  p.  203 ;  and  see  p. 
209 — in  both  places,  a  vehement  and 
exiJting  tirade.  Even  the  exile  at 
Trfeves  finds  consolation  and  revenge 
in  this  abasement  of  the  "  tyrant." 


CKAr.  IV.] 


BANOUINAUY  COMBAT. 


589 


who  had  presented  him  with  the  hitter  cup  watched 
all  his  words  and  ge.sture.s,  and  every  shadow  that 
passed  across  his  face.'"  Charles  had  been  advised 
that  it  was  unnecessary  for  him  to  lead  his  whole 
anny  against  an  enemy  who  had  so  often  recoiled 
before  his  attacks.  His  forces  amounted  to  forty 
thousand  men,  and  it  was  doubtful  whether  Liege 
coufd  send  half  that  number  into  the  field ;  while, 
in  its  present  state,  the  city  was  incapable  of  en- 
during a  siege,  and  might  be  expected  to  fall  at 
the  first  onset.  But  he  refused  to  dispense  with  any 
of  the  resources  at  his  command.  With  such  an 
ally  in  his  camp,  no  precaution  was  superfluous.  A 
secret  missive,  a  mere  hint,  would  be  sufficient  to 
bring  Dammartin  upon  the  scene  of  action.  That 
the  latter  might  not  wait  for  any  hint  was  the  secret 
apprehension  of  Louis. 

Tlie  Burgundian  army  entered  the  principality  in 
two.  divisions  —  the  first,  under  the  marshal  of  Bur- 
gundy, who  was  accompanied  by  Du  Lau  and  the 
other  French  refugees,  being  a  day's  marcli  in  ad- 
vance. Having  captured  Tongres  and  other  towns, 
and  laid  waste  the  surrounding  country,  the  marshal 
continued  his  approach  towards  the  capital.  On  the 
22d  he  was  encountered  by  a  body  of  twelve  thou- 
sand men,  and  a  sangumary  engagement  took  place, 
in  which  the  Burgundians  were  at  first  overmastered 
and  compelled  to  retreat.  But  reenforcements  ar- 
riving, under  the  Sire  de  Ravens  tein,  the  superiority 
in  numbers,  as  well  as  in  discipline  and  arras  decided 


"I 


I ' 


In! 


**  See  Commines,  torn.  i.  pp.  185, 186. 


m 


ti 


IV 


R 


1,1 


ti  >j 


.*1M 


m  '1 


590 


MARCH  AGAINST  LI^GE. 


[book  n. 


the  day.  The  men  of  Liege  were  utterly  routed,  and 
left  behind  them  more  than  two  thousand  slain.  A 
party  of  five  hundred,  posted  in  a  mill,  which  they 
defended  with  desperate  valvar,  perished  to  a  man.^ 

Two  days  later,  the  bishop,  the  legate,  and  one  of 
the  newly  elected  burgomasters  made  their  appear- 
ance in  the  camp.  They  had  been  sent  at  the  sugges- 
tion of  the  legate,  in  the  hope  that  their  intercession 
might  stUl  avail  to  obtain  some  terms  of  grace.  But 
the  sole  petition  they  ventured  to  prefer  —  that  the 
lives  of  the  inhabitants  might  be  spared — was  scorn- 
fully rejected.  In  the  opmion  not  only  of  his  own 
adherents,  but  of  persons  not  too  favorable  to  his 
cause,  Charles  had  already  treated  Liege  with  unde- 
served clemency.^''  It  was  no  mere  feat  of  arms  that 
he  now  contemplated,  lyit  the  complete  eradication 
of  a  virulent  pest  which  had  proved  incurable  by 
ordinary  means.  The  burgomaster  was  sent  in  chains 
to  Maestricht ;  the  bishop  was  detained  to  bear,  his 
part  in  the  triumph ;  while  the  legate,  whose  humane 
proceedings  were  attributed  to  sinister  motives,  re- 
ceived a  contemptuous  dismissal  and  was  conducted 
from  the  principality.^ 


M  ti  Furent  Ih  faites  de  grans  vai- 
llances  d'une  part  et  d'autre,  et  se 
vendirent  bien  les  villains,  lesquelx  h 
la  fin  y  dcmeurerent  tons  mors  avec 
leurdict  capitaine;  et  ne  print  Ton 
point  cedict  jour  ung  seul  prisonnier, 
ains  fut  tout  mis  k  I'espee  ;  .  ■  .  et  fut 
brullc  ledict  moustier  et  villaige." 
Letter  of  Jean  de  Mazillcs,  a  Bur- 
gundian  officer  present,  Nov.  8,  in 
JJupont,  Preuves,  torn.  iii.  p.  245. 


*'  See,  in  particular,  the  remarks 
of  Commines,  (torn,  i,  p.  201,)  who, 
on  the  \yhole, — his  peculiar  position, 
his  character,  and  his  intellect,  all 
considered,  —  is  the  best  represent- 
ative of  the  ideas  and  opinions,  or 
perhaps  M-e  should  rather  say  of  the 
enlightenment,  of  his  age. 

"  Piccolomini.  -7-  Commines.  — ' 
After  his  return  to  Italy  he  fell  into 
disgrace,  in  consequence  of  the  ill 


CHAP.  IV.] 


DESPEILV'l'E  SORTIE. 


591 


Shorn  of  its  fortifications,  Liege  was  still  protected 
by  a  semicircular  range  of  hills  enclosing  it  on  the 
north  and  extending  on  either  side  to  the  river.  In 
some  places  the  slopes  were  gradual,  and  covered, 
then  as  now,  with  gardens  and  vineyards.  But,  for 
the  most  part,  this  district  could  be  safely  traversed 
in  the  dark  only  by  those  who  were  thoroughly  famil- 
iar with  it.  Taking  advantage  of  this  circumstance, 
and  of  the  cold,  autumnal  rains  which  had  flooded  the 
low  lands  and  impeded  the  operations  of  the  foe,  De 
Ville,  at  the  head  of  a  picked  band,  made  a  sortie,  on 
the  night  of  the  26th,  against  the  marshal  of  Bur- 
gundy, whose  forces  were  stationed  in  the  suburbs. 
The  archers,  thrown  into  confusion,  lost  more  than 
eight  hundred  of  their  number.  Humbercourt,  the 
prince  of  Orange,  and  other  men  of  note,  were 
wounded.  But  most  of  the  men-at-arms  remained 
firm,  opened  a  fire  from  their  artillery  against  one 
of  the  gates,  which  had  been  repaired,  and  through 
which  the  people  offered  to  sally,  and,  as  soon  as  the 
dawn  had  revealed  the  inferiority  of  their  assailants, 
drove  them  back  with  slaughter  into  the  town.  De 
Ville,  mortally  wounded  in  the  retreat,  expired  on 
the  following  day.'^ 

A  final  and  daring  effort  was  made  by  the  besieged 
on  the  night  of  Saturday,  October  29.  The  Bur- 
gundian  troops,  posted  at  their  respective  stations, 
had  completed   their  preparations  for   the   assault, 

success  of  his  mission ;  andthemor-  "  Adrianus,  Ampliss.  Col.,  torn, 
tification  he  endured  is  said  to  have  iv.  p.  1339.  —  Commiues,  torn.  L  p. 
occasionedhisdeath.  Dellam,p.316.     179,  et  seq. 


592 


RUIN  OF  LIEGE. 


[book  II. 


!"•'   i 


rlh 


.■  '■,   1- 


I- 1 ' 


which  was  ordered  for  the  next  morning.  When  all 
was  silent  and  obscure  six  hundred  intrepid  men 
passed  across  the  ruined  walls,  descended  by  a  pre- 
cipitous path  and  through  a  watery  ravine  to  the 
valley  lying  between  the  citadel  and  the  Faubourg 
Sainte-Walburge,  and,  ascending  the  opposite  heights, 
directed  their  march,  silently  and  vigilantly,  but  witli 
as  much  speed  a&  the  rugged  ground  would  permit, 
towards  the  quarters  occupied  by  the  two  princes, 
Charles  of  Burgundy  and  Louis  of  France  —  namei^ 
now  united  in  the  curses  of  a  downtrodden  and  ex- 
piring people. 

They  were  natives  —  the  persons  composing  this 
adventurous  band  —  of  Franchimont,  a  little  moun- 
tain territory  south  of  Liege,  famous  for  its  black 
marbles  and  other  valuable  minerals,  and  inhabited 
by  a  hardy  race  of  people7  whose  traditions  were  full 
of  wild  exploits  that  made  nothing  seem  impossible 
to  bold  hearts  and  sinewy  limbs.  Their  present  en- 
terprise might  well  have  appeared  a  desperate  one  j 
yet  it  was,  in  truth,  sagaciously  planned,  and  not 
unworthy  of  men  who,  in  their  extremity,  had  lost 
neither  hope,  nor  courage,  nor  the  ability  to  profit 
by  the  last  remaining  chances  of  redemption. 

In  order  to  complete  the  investment  on  the  north- 
ern side,  and  obtain  the  means  of  operating  simul- 
taneously in  the  assault,  the  Burgundian  army  had 
been  compelled  to  extend  its  lines  around  the  am- 
phitheatre of  hills  already  mentioned ;  and  its  com- 
munications were  lengthened  and  impeded  by  deep 
chasms,  precipitous  spurs,  and  other  difficulties  of  the 


i 


CHAP.  IV.] 


DESPERATE  SOllTIE. 


593 


ground.  A  circuit  of  full  three  leagues  was  necessary 
in  passing  from  one  to  the  other  of  the  extreme 
wings;  while,  within  the  city,  the  march  between 
these  points  was  short,  direct,  and  over  streets  that 
might  be^  considered  as  broad  and  level  when  com- 
pared v/ith  the  winding  paths  without.  On  this 
foundation  the  plan  had  been  formed  for  the  sudden 
discomfiture  of  a  foe  far  too  powerful  to  be  encoun- 
tered in  the  field,  or  opposed  with  any  prospect  of 
success  at  his  intended  entrance,  in  the  broad  day, 
into  a  defenceless  place.  The  men  of  Franchimont, 
fitted  for  such  a  service  by  the  habits  of  their  moun- 
tain life,  Avere  to  penetrate  to  the  hostile  camp  by  a 
route  so  wild  and  untraversed  that  there  was  no  ap- 
prehension of  its  being  found  defended  by  outposts. 
Guided  by  the  owners  of  the  two  houses  in  which 
the  duke  and  the  king  had  fixed  their  quarters,  they 
were  to  glide  or  burst  through  the  guards,  make 
their  way  straight  to  the  sleeping  apartments  of  the 
princes,  and  slay  them  both  before  succor  could  ar- 
rive. As  soon  as  the  event  might  be  supposed  to  be 
determined,  or  at  a  signal  agreed  upon,  the  people 
were  to  make  a  general  sally  by  a  street  or  causeway 
leading  directly  to  the  suburbs,  in  the  hope  that  the 
besieging  army,  taken  by  surprise,  bewildered  by  the 
darkness,  by  its  want  of  familiarity  with  the  ground, 
and  by  the  confusion  and  irresolution  that  would 
naturally  follow  the  loss  of  its  commander,  might  be 
thrown  into  panic  and  be  smitten  with  irretrievable 
disaster. 

The  little  party  to  whom  the  chief  and  most  haz- 


i 


VOL.  I. 


V,. 


it 

Sit 


594 


RUIN  OF  LIEGE. 


[book    II. 


arclous  share  of  this  enterprise  had  been  committed 
succeeded  in  reaching  the  faubourg  —  a  mere  cUistor 
of  larm-houses  and  cottages  —  without  crefiting  an 
alarm.  It  was  still  early;  but,  with  the  exception  of 
a  ^iiw  sentinels,  who  were  quickly  and  silently  dis- 
posed of,  all  seemed  profoundly  still.  The  duke, 
having  for  several  previous  nights  taken  little  or  no 
repose,  had  disarmed  and  retired  to  rest.  Commines 
and  one  or  two  other  favorite  attendants  slept  in 
the  same  chamber;  while,  in  the  room  above,  some 
archers,  intrusted  with  the  watch,  were  engaged 
in  playing  at  dice.  The  house  was  connected  with 
a  smaller  dwelling,  where  the  king  lay,  by  a  long 
and  narrow  building,  intended  for  a  granary,  but 
now  occupied  by  a  party  of  soldiers,  who  had  pierced 
the  walls  so  as  to  command  the  open  space  on  either 
side.  These  precautions  "had  been  taken,  however, 
not  in  anticipation  of  an  attack  by  the  enemy,  but 
to  guard  against  any  sudden  act  of  treachery  on  the 
part  of  Louis,  whose  Scottish  archers  were  under  the 
same  roof  with  himself,  while  his  men-at-arms  were 
scattered  through  the  neighboring  village.  So  pro- 
found was  the  jealousy  still  entertained  of  an  ally 
who,  throughout  the  operations,  had  preserved  the 
same  frank  and  cordial  demeanor,  and  given  frequent 
proofs  of  the  loyalty  of  his  intentions ! 

Had  the  assailants  gone  straight  lo  the  doors,  it  is 
probable  —  or  was  at  least  thought  so  by  those  who 
were  on  the  spot  —  that  their  purpose  would  have 
been  accomplished.  But  coming  unexpectedly  on  a 
pavilion  belonging  to  the  count  of  Perche,  and  sup- 


CHAP.  lY.] 


DESPERATE  SORTIE. 


595 


posing  perhaps  that  it  was  occupied  by  a  guard,  they 
jiierced  it  with  their  pikes  and  aroused  the  inmates. 
Some  of  these  were  slain,  but  not  without  a  disturb- 
ance that  attracted  the  attention  of  the  archers  and 
awoke  the  troops  stationed  in  the  granary.  Attempt- 
ing to  sally,  the  P^rgundians  found  themselves  en- 
gaged with  an  enemy  whose  character  and  numbers 
they  were  alike  unable  to  conjecture.  The  duke, 
meanwhile,  having  hastily  donned  some  portion  of 
his  armor,  descended,  sword  in  hand,  to  the  street, 
followed  by  his  attendants.  So  great  was  the  press 
around  the  door  that  several  minutes  elapsed  before 
they  could  fight  their  way  out.  When  they  succeeded 
the  tumult  had  become  general.  The  soldiers  from 
the  village  and  other  stations  were  hurrying  to  the 
spot;  torches  were  beginning  to  gleam;  the  royal 
archers,  remaining  under  cover,  as  bound  to  shelter 
the  king's  person,  discharged  showers  of  arrows  from 
the  windows,  indifferent  whether  they  lighted  on 
friend  or  foe ;  while  the  war-cries  of  Burgundy  and 
France  — "  Vive  Bonrgognc !"  "  Vive  le  Boy  et  tucz !" — 
were  answered  by  similar  exclamations  in  the  pecu- 
liar dialect  of  Liege.  D  tected,  hemmed  in,  and  over- 
whelmed by  superior  numbers,  the  men  of  Franchi- 
mont  could  not  long  maintain  the  unequal  combat. 
But  they  sold  their  lives  dearly  —  killing  above  two 
hundred  of  their  foes,  w^ounding  many  more,  and 
fighting  with  desperate  courage  to  the  last.  Whether 
any  escaped,  or  sought  to  escape,  remained  a  matter 
of  uncertainty.  The  ground  was  strewn  with  corpses, 
which  no  one  cared  to  count;  though  histor}-  may 


I: 


596 


RUIN  OF  LIEGE. 


[book   II. 


Ik 


If*'''  , 


Ih 


fpr 


%. 


0    -f 


not  refuse  its  meed  of  glory  to  the  prowess  and  hero- 
ism of  these  nameless  dead.^'' 

Such  an  act  of  daring  seemed  to  indicate  a  more 
determined  resistance  than  the  besiegers  had  i)re- 
pared  themselves  to  encounter.  A  sortie,  as  had  been 
agreed  upon,  was  also  attempted  by  the  main  ave- 
nues ;  and,  though  easily  repulsed  by  strong  bodies 
of  troops  posted  at  those  points,  had  the  effect  of 
keeping  the  whole  camp  in  alarm  throughout  the 
night.  Louis  advised  that  the  assault  should  be  post- 
poned until  the  spirit  of  the  besieged  was  more  effect- 
ually subdued.  He,  more  than  any  other,  was  anxious 
for  the  complete  success  of  the  Burgundian  arms. 
Liege  was  the  bridge  over  which  alone  he  could  hope 
to  reUu'n  to  his  own  dominions;  and  he  dreaded  the 
effect  of  any  disaster  or  reverse  on  the  moody  and 
violent  nature  of  his  kinsman.'^  But  the  duke,  still 
suspicious  in  regard  to  every  suggestion  from  that 
quarter,  chose  to  attribute  this  advice  to  lack  of 
physical  courage,  and  intimated  that  the  king,  if  he 
were  so  minded,  might  retire  to  Namur  and  await 


'"  Commines,  liv.  ii.  ch.  12.  — 
Adrianus,  Ampliss.  Col.,  torn.  iv. 
p.  1341.  —  Theodoricus  Paulus,  De 
Ram,  p.  220.  —  Letter  of  Jean  de 
Mazilles,  Dupont,  torn.  iii.  p.  246.  — 
Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  140.  —  Uiesbach, 
ill  Der  Schweizerische  Geschichtfior- 
scher,  B.  viii.  s.  173.  —  Gerlache, 
Re' volutions  de  Liege,  p.  133,  et  seq. 
—  Bovy,  Promenades  Hfstoriques, 
torn,  i.  pp.  29,  44,  et  al.  —  Basin, 
torn.  ii.  p.  201,  et  seq.  The  number 
of  the  Franchimontois  is  variously 
stated  at  from  three  to  six  hundred. 


The  latter,  which  is  the  number  given 
by  Commines,  has  received  a  certain 
sanctity  from  the  local  traditions. 

"  "  Entra  le  Roy  en  grant  doubte ; 
et  en  estoit  la  cause  qu'il  avoit  paour 
que  se  ledict  due  failloit  h,  prendre 
ceste  cite  d'assault,  que  le  mal  en 
tomberoit  sur  luy,  et  qu'il  en  seroit 
en  dangier  d'estre  arreste,  ou  prins 
de  tons  pointz :  car  !e  due  auroit  pa- 
our que,  s'il  partoit,  ii  ne  luy  feist  !a 
guerre  d'aultre  coste."  Commines, 
torn.  i.  p.  192. 


CHAP.  IV.] 


ENTRANCE  OF  TIIE  TROOPS. 


597 


the  event.  When,  however,  he  found  Louis,  in  tlie 
morning,  at  the  head  of  his  h"ttle  troop,  mounted  and 
armed,  and  prepared  to  take  part  in  the  assault,  he 
endeavored,  with  more  courtesy,  as  well  as  with 
greater  sincerity,  to  dissuade  him  from  thus  exposing 
his  person.  The  monarch,  witli  his  accistomed  smile, 
persisted  in  his  purpose.  "  My  brother,"  he  said,  "  let 
us  advance.  You  are  to-day  the  most  fortunate  prince 
alive!'"'''  To  his  own  followers  he  cried,  " Forward, 
my  children !     Let  the  word  be  '  Burgundy !' "  ^'^ 

But  the  victory  was  already  achieved,  and  nothing 
remained  but  to  secure  the  fruits.  Not  the  least  re- 
sistance was  offered;  and  the  army,  in  three  divisions, 
entered  the  town  from  as  many  different  quarters, 
with  ranks  unbroken,  banners  flying,  trumpets  sound- 
ing, and  shouts  of  "Vilk  gaignee!"  that  passed  along 
the  advancing  columns  from  front  to  rear.  The 
streets  leading  to  the  great  square  had  been  deserted 
by  all  save  a  few  stragglers,  who  were  cut  down  — 
men  and  women  —  by  the  brutal  and  impatient  sol- 
diery. The  houses,  too,  seemed  vacant ;  though  the 
tables  spread  for  the  morning  repast  showed  how 
recently  the  occupants  had  fled.''*  The  forces  under 
the  marshal  of  Burgundy  were  the  first  to  reach  the 
square,  where  they  planted  their  standard  and  re- 


"  "  Ne  voulut  souffrir  que  le  Roy 
se  mist  en  ce  danger ;  et  luy  pria  de 
demourer  jusques  il  le  manderoit ;  et 
j'ouy  que  le  Roy  luy  dit :  '  Mon  frere, 
marchez  avant,  car  vous  estes  le  plus 
heureux  prince,  qui  vivc.'"  La- 
marche,  torn.  ii.  p.  288. 


"  "  Avant,  enfans,  criez  Bour- 
goigne."  Haynin,  torn,  i,  p. 
142. 

^*  "  En  chascune  maison  trou- 
vasmes  la  nappe  miae."  Commines, 
torn.  L  p.  194. 


'"   1, 


I  ''i 

i  1 
,'  if 


598 


RUIN  OF  LIEGE. 


[book    II. 


1 1 '  y 


(»a 


r. 


inained  in  order  of  battle.  The  duke,  with  the  main 
corps,  arrived  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  was  fol- 
lowed by  the  king,  elate  with  triumph,  waving  his 
naked  sword,  and  crying  "Vit'e  Boiirgofine !"  with  the 
full  strength  of  his  lungs.""^  As  soon  as  it  was  clear 
that  no  further  res'stance  need  be  apprehended,  the 
troops  were  distributed  throughout  the  city,  a  sepa- 
rate district  being  assigned  to  each  division.  Within 
those  limits  all  was  to  be  theirs.  On  a  former  occa- 
sion they  had  been  defrauded  of  what  they  considered 
as  the  proper  reward  of  their  achievements.  But 
now  there  was  no  restriction,  no  cause  for  secresy  or 
fear,  Rnpacity,  cruelty,  lust,  —  all  the  foul  desires 
of  the  unbridled  heart,  —  were  to  rage  with  license 
and  impunity. 

The  greater  number  of  the  inhabitants  had  already 
retreated  across  the  bridge  to  the  southern  shore- 
Avith  the  purpose  of  seeking  refuge  in  the  neighbor- 
ing woods.  But  many  had  concealed  themselves  in 
their  dwellings;  while  others,  as  usual  at  such  times, 
had  sought  sanctuary  in  the  sacred  edifices,  taking 
with  them  the  most  valuable  or  least  bulky  of  their 
effects.  There  were  more  than  four  hundred  churches 
in  Liege,^"  where  as  many  masses  were  recited  daily 
{)s  in  Kome  itself '"'  The  pompous  rite  w^as  even  then 
proceeding;  psalms  and  anthems,  selected  for  their 

^*  Adrianus,  Ampliss.  Col.,  torn.        "  "  J'ay  ouy  dire  k  monseigiieur 

iv.  p.  i;)4.'J.  —  Letter  of  Anthoine  de  de   Humbercourt,  qui  congnoissoil 

Loisey,  Nov.  4,  Lcnglet,  torn.  iii.  p.  bien  la  cite,  qu'il  s'y  disoit  uiitant 

82.  —  Letter  of  Jean  de  Ma/illes,  de  messes  par  jour  comme  il  se  fii  - 

])upont,  torn.  iii.  p.  24S.  soit  h  Romme."    Commines,  toni.  i. 

»•  Letter  of  Jean  de  Mazilies,  Du-  p.  196. 
pont,  torn.  iii.  p.  247. 


CHAP.  IV.] 


SACK  AND  MASSACRE. 


;99 


appropriateness  to  the  occasion,  had  been  chanted  by 
the  priests ;'"'  the  swinging  censer  diffused  its  clouds, 
heavy  with  odors,  above  the  worshippers;  and  the 
tinkhng  bell,  that  announced  the  elevation  of  the 
host,  was  followed,  as  ever,  by  moments  of  absorbed 
and  silent  adoration.  The  sounds  which  broke  that 
silence  were  not  the  triumphal  notes  of  praise  as- 
cending to  Heaven,  but  the  clamors  of  Hell.  Eyes 
flaming  with  demoniac  passions  glared  -pon  the 
scene.  Shrieks  and  curses  succeeded ;  the  clang  of 
steel ;  the  fall  of  slaughtered  bodies  on  the  marble 
pavement.  Booty  was  the  primary  object;  but  every 
where  the  track  of  the  devastators  was  marked  with 
blood.  It  flowed  in  rivulets  upon  the  floors.  The 
vest:;;ents  of  the  officiating  clergy  were  sprinkled 
with  the  crimson  drops.  In  one  ehurch  twenty-two 
persons  were  slain  while  kneeling  in  prayer;  in 
another  eleven  were  killed,  and  many  wounded  lell 
\veltering  in  their  gore.  In  all,  or  nearly  all,  the 
same  atrocities  were  enacted.  The  habits  of  a  sirper- 
stitious  awe  were  enviously  blended  with  open  sacri- 
lege. In  some  instances  the  celebrants  were  request- 
ed to  remove  iae  elements  before  delivering  up  the 
vessels  that  contained  them.  At  the  Church  of  the 
Minorites,  a  soldier  was  seen  waiting  for  the  priest 
to  complete  the  consecration  ere  he  snatch  d  the 
costly  chalice  from   his   grasp.     Another,  at   Saint 

"   "  In   matutinis  cantatum  fnit  ct  in  evanp[el5o,  Missi"  exercUihus 

Villi  Dominnm ;  et  Aspice  Domine  suis  penlidit  homines  illos,  et  civi- 

qnia  desolata  est  civitas  plena  divi-  tatem  eoriim  succendit."    Adrianus, 

tiis.    Et  in  introitu  majoris  missff,  Ampliss.  Col.,  torn.  iv.  p.  1342. 
Omnia  quce  fecisti  vobis  Domine; 


: 


ir 


■   I 


Ri 


:i  i 


GOO 


IIUIN   OF   LIfc:OE. 


[nooK  II. 


Peter's,  Avliik  tlie  priest  was  in  the  act  of  upraising 
tlie  liost,  oft'ered  no  interruption,  but,  nlippintj^  a  hand 
beneath  the  folds  of  his  vestment,  dexterously  eased 
liini  of  his  purse.  The  ornaments  of  the  altars,  the 
images,  the  reliquaries,  were  seized  and  approi)riated. 
The  monuments  were  broken,  the  tombs  entered  and 
despoiled.  The  convents  were  forced,  tlie  nuns  vio- 
hited.  Neither  age,  sej:,  nor  condition  was  respected. 
Where  life  was  spared,  it  was  in  the  hope  of  extorting 
ransom,  or,  more  often,  in  order  that  death  might 
be  inllicted  at  greater  leisure  and  with  greater  bar- 
barity;'" 

Some  efforts  were  made  to  restrain  the  fury  of 
the  soldiery,  which  had  burst  forth  with  a  violence, 


1 


'li' 


.i. 


I  ' 


*'  Atlrianus,  AmpHas,  Col.,  torn,  credence  is  due  to  the  account  writ- 
iv.  —  Theodoricus  I'aulus,  Ue  Ilain,  ten,  "  petitionc  uliquorum  houesto- 
pp.  'J'-'U,  224  — Joannes  de  Los,  ])e  .rum,  sub  omni  fide,"  by  Theodoricus 


Ham,  p.  Gl.  —  Henricus  de  Merica, 
De  llam,  p.  179.  —  Commines  makes 
no  mention  of  the.se  scenes.  He 
says  that  tlie  number  slain  in  the 
streets,  on  the  entrance  of  the  troops, 
did  not  exceed  200.  The  churches, 
he  says,  were  sacked,  and  those  who 
were  present  made  prisoners.  But 
Commines  himself  was  in  close  at- 
tendance on  the  duke ;  Saint  T.-rt 
bert's  was  the  only  church  he  en- 
tered ;  and  his  narrative  was  written 
many  years  after  the  event.    It  is 


Paulus  from  the  information  he  had 
received  from  one  of  the  actors  — 
"  ub  honesto  viro  Jacobo  Deyn,  qui 
est  juratus  balistarius  et  custos  cor- 
poris principis  Karoli,  ac  elium  bal- 
luis  de  Ardcn  in  comitate  de  Ghi- 
sen ; "  (De  Ram,  p.  231  j)  or  to  that 
of  Henricus  de  Merica,  prior  of  a 
convent  in  Louvain,  who  had  ample 
means  of  information,  and  whose 
narrative  bears  the  date  of  1468-9. 
Haynin  says  (torn.  i.  p.  142)  that  the 
number  slain  on  the  first  day,  "  men 


impossible  to  reject  the  testimony  of    and  women,  old  and  younj?,"  was 


Adriunus,  who  was  going  about  the 
city  during  tlie  day  to  obtain  protec- 
tion for  his  convent,  who  kept  a  di- 
ary from  which  he  afterwards  com- 
posed his  work,  and  who  writes  in 
the  most  impartial,  unimpassioned, 
and  matter-of-fact  style.  Hardly  less 


above  a  thousand.  Jean  de  Mazilles, 
in  a  letter  from  Liege  dated  Nov.  8, 
after  describing  the  assault,  says  that 
the  prisoners  taken  during  the  oper- 
ation were  threwn  into  the  river. 
Dupont,  torn.  iii.  p.  247. 


CHAP.  IV.] 


SACK  AXD  MASSACKE, 


601 


or  liiid  perhaps  taken  a  direction,  not  nlto^other  an- 
ticipated, llunibercourt,  who  was  .still  .siilleriii^^  fVoui 
hi.s  wound,  caused  hini.self  to  be  carried  in  a  litter  to 
the  Church  of  Saint  Jacques,  and  succeeded  in  saving 
that  sumptuous  edifice — "the  marvel  of  Liege"  — 
from  spoliation.  The  duke  went  in  person  to  the 
cathedral,  and  expelled  the  depredators  after  he  had 
slain  one  or  more  of  them  with  his  own  sword.'" 
With  these  and  possibly  a  few  other  exceptions,  all 
the  churches  were  completely  sacked."  Treasure  so 
enormous  in  amount,  and  so  attractive  from  the  daz- 
zling forms  in  which  it  was  displayed,  became  natu- 
rally the  first  prize  of  the  cupidity  which  it  was  so 
well  adai)ted  to  inflame. 

A  proclamation  was  issued,  on  the  following  da}^, 
permitting  aged  persons,  women,  and  children  of  ten- 
der years  to  quit  the  place.  Boats  were  provided  for 
conveying  the  members  of  the  monastic  orders  and 
females  of  the  better  classes  to  Maestricht.*^    The  re- 


**  Lnmarche,  torn.  ii.  p.  289.  — 
Coniniinus,  (who  saw  him  kill  tme,) 
torn.  i.  p.  IJIO.  —  "  Evaginato  giadio 
vix  potuit  cohibere,  ne  franjjerent 
sacristiam."  Adrianus,  Ampliss. 
Col,  torn,  iv.  p.  13^i3.  —  Henricus 
de  Merica,  I)c  Ram,  p.  181;  and 
Theodoiicus  Paulus,  Ibid.,  p.  213. 

*'  "  Tot !  es  les  eglises,  ainsi  que 
la  citd,  out  este  pillees,  reserve  Sainct 
Lambert,  qui  est  la  grant  eglise,  que 
mondict  seigneur  a  reservee."  Let- 
ter of  Anthoine  de  Loisey,  Nov.  3, 
Lenglet,  torn.  iii.  p.  83.  —  "  Toutes 
les  eglises,  au  nombre  de  plua  de 
IIIIc,  ont  estc  pillees,  desrobees, 
<le8olces."  Letter  of  Jean  de  Ma- 
VOL.  I.  76 


zilles,   Nov.   8,    Dupont,    torn.  iii. 
p.  247. 

*'  Theodoricus  Paulus,  De  Ham, 
p.  224.  —  Priests,  nuns,  monks,  beg- 
ging friars,  and  other  ecclusia.stics, 
departed,  taking  with  them  whatever 
they  could  snatch  from  the  rapine. 
Two  or  three  monks  remained  in 
charge  of  each  convent.  Adrianus 
boasts  that  in  his  own  monastery,  that 
of  Saint  Lawrence,  all  remained  ex- 
cept the  abbot  and  two  others,  and 
that  the  sacred  services  were  not  in- 
termitted "  a  single  hour  "  through- 
out the  sack  or  the  destruction  that 
succeeded.  Ampliss.  CoL,  torn.  iv. 
p.  1344. 


'  ,1 


G02 


RUIX  OF  LI^GE. 


[itOOX   II, 


maining  inhabitants  were  left  entirely  to  the  discretion 
of  their  captors.  It  was  not  so  much  a  wanton  carnage 
that  ensued  as  a  long  series  of  cold-blooded  mur- 
ders. Hanging  was  a  favorite  mode  of  disposing  of 
the  prisoners.  Some  were  thrown  from  the  roofs  of 
houses,  and  the  mangled  corpses  left  unburied  in  the 
streets.  But,  in  general,  they  were  collected  in  gangs 
driven  upon  the  bridge,  tied  together  "  in  twos  or 
threes,"  and  hurled  into  the  flood  beneath.*^  It  would 
be  idle  to  attempt  any  estimate  of  the  numljcrs  that 
perished.  Some  writers  have  swelled  it  to  an  incred- 
ible amount.**  The  most  trustworthy  authorities  fur- 
nish us  with  no  sufficient  data.  Commines,  with  his 
usual  lack  of  interest  in  such  details,  contents  himself 
with  the  statement  that  "  great  numbers  of  the  poor 
people  were  drowned" — excusing  the  cruelty,  which 
he  admits  was  practised,  on  the  jilea  of  ample  and 
oft-repeated  provocations.  A  cavalier  of  noble  family, 
writing  from  Liege,  on  November  8,  to  his  sister  in 
Burgundy,  after  expressing  some  compassion  for  the 
misery  which  he  had  witnessed,  says  that  the  dead 
are  reckoned  at  between  four  and  five  thousand.*"' 
The  discrepancies  on  this  point,  however,  are  of  little 


**  "  Twelke  afgriselye  ende  deer- 
lyk  van  zieiie  was."  Gachard,  (from 
tlio  Register  of  Ypres,)  Doc.  Indd., 
torn.  i.  p.  202.  —  And  see  Adrianus, 
I)e  Los,  Theodorlcus  Paulus,  &c. 

**  To  forty,  and  even  sixty,  thou- 
sand !  Gerlache  and  other  modern 
authors  adopt  these  8tatement8,which 
rest  on  no  historical  authority,  unless 
the  tedious  bombast  of  Angelus  de 
Curribus  (whose  Latiii  poem  "De 


was 


Excidio  Civitatis  teodiensis' 
written  for  the  purpose  of  celebrat- 
ing the  unfortunate  mission  of  his 
patron  the  bishop  of  Tricaria)  is  to 
be  accepted  as  such. 

**  "  Est  moult  grant  pitid  de  veoir 
Ics  maulx  qui  se  font.  .  .  .  L'on  es- 
time  estre  mors  desdicts  I.yegois, 
pour  tons  poutaiges,  de  IIII  fi  Vni 
hommes."  Letter  of  Jean  de  Ma- 
zilles,  Dupont,Preuve8,  tom.iii.p.247. 


CHAP.  IV.] 


UNFIAOGIXO   HITOIT  OF  I.OT'IS. 


G03 


consequence.  What  i.s  certain  is,  that  nothinj^  less 
was  intended  and  deUbeiately  aimed  at  than  utter 
extermination ;  and  that,  vhether  by  the  summary 
niode.s  already  mentioned,  or  through  a  .slower  and 
still  more  horrible  proce.s.s, — the  tUght  and  expulsion 
from  their  homes,  at  an  inclement  season,  of  vast 
multitudes  in  a  -Nvholly  destitute  c(mdition ,  their  dis- 
2)ersion  through  the  forests,  where  "  numy  died  of 
hunger,  cold,  or  weariness;"  the  eha.se  maintain(!d,not 
only  by  the  Burgundian  troop.s,  but  by  arnud  Ijands 
collected  by  the  neighboring  nobles  and  prelates  with 
the  view  of  propitiating  the  favor  of  the  duke ;  and, 
in  fine,  the  suffering,  mental  as  well  as  physical,  of 
whioh  there  remains  no  account  in  any  earthly  rec- 
ord,— the  object  was  at  least  approximately  attained. 
Fate  had  assigned  to  the  French  monarch  the  fool's 
part  in  this  dismal  tragedy;  and  he  played  it, without 
any  signs  of  flagging,  to  the  close.  Escorted,  on  his 
entrance,  to  the  bishop's  palace,  he  had,  with  his  accus- 
tomed modesty,  declined  to  occupy  the  state  apart- 
ments, insisting  that  these  should  be  reserved  for  the 
duke,  to  whom  belonged  of  right  the  honors  of  the 
occasion.^"  At  dinner  he  was  in  the  best  of  spirits, 
and  discoursed  with  extreme  vivacity  to  his  attend- 
ants— his  only  theme,  the  prowess  and  happy  fortune 
of  his  fair  cousin  of  Burgundy.  Still  louder  were  the 
eulogies,  still  more  fervent  the  congratulation.s,  when 
Charles,  returning  from  Saint  Lambert's,  joined  him 
at  table.    They  m.ade  "  great  cheer  "  together.*''    The 


!i 


**  Theodoricus  Faulus,  Dc  Ham,        *''   Commines,   torn.  i.   pp.   196, 
p.  224.  197. 


604 


RUIN  OF  LI£gE. 


[book  II. 


kii 

'fir 


IH 


hi 


events  of  the  day  seemed  to  have  the  effect  of  com- 
pletely reestablishing  the  entente  cordiale.  The  duke 
had  £.  question  for  his  royal  guest :  What  was  to  be 
done  witii  Liege  "when  evacuated  by  the  troops  — 
when  the  city,  once  so  full  of  life,  so  noisy  and  tumul- 
tuous, Avas  empty  and  silent?  But  one  reply  was 
possible  —  that  which  might  be  read  in  the  counte- 
nance of  the  questioner.  But  how  ready  the  wit 
which,  at  such  a  moment,  framed  this  graceful  apo- 
logue by  way  of  answer !  —  "  My  father,  on  a  certain 
time,  had  a  high  tree  near  h  >  house ;  and  the  crows 
that  built  their  nest  in  its  branches  disturbed  his 
slumbers.  He  caused  the  nest  to  be  removed,  but 
the  crows  built  again ;  and  a  second  time,  but  they 
still  returned.  At  last  he  had  the  tree  cut  down  — 
at  the  roots  —  and  after  that  slept  quietly."*^ 

The  duke  continuing  in  this  serene  and  amicable 
temper,  Louis  caused  him  to  be  privately  sounded 
on  the  subject  that  was  ever  uppermost  in  his  own 
mind,  carefully  as  he  had  hitherto  suppressed  every 
indication  of  his  feelings  —  his  dismissal,  with  per- 
mission to  return  to  France.*'  He  had  faithfully 
and  loyally  complied  with  all  the  stipulations  of  the 
agreement.  He  had  accepted  of  the  ignominies  that 
were  heaped  upon  him,  not  with  an  air  of  sullen  res- 
ignation, but  with  looks  expressive  of  gratitude  and 
pleasure.     He  had  borne,  with  unabashed  counte- 

*"  Adrianus,  (Ampliss.  Col.,  torn.        *'  "  N'avoit  en  son  cueur  aultre 

iv.  p.  1343,)  who,  with  his  usual  scru-  desir  que  s'en  retourner  en  sa  roy- 

pulousness,  mentions  this  dialof^ue  aulme."    Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  196 ; 

as  matter  of  hearsay.      He  might  and  see  p.  198. 
have  sworn  to  its  truth. 


CHAP.  IV.] 


DEPARTURE  OF  LOUIS. 


605 


nance,  the  ill-concealed  contempt  of  those  around 
him,  the  open  execrations  of  the  wretched  people 
whom  he  had  outraged  and  betrayed.^"  His  own  troops 
tvould  reiitm  Iiome  laden  with  the  spoils  of  Liege^^  Even 
his  reputation  for  superior  cunning  seemed  to  have 
received  a  fatal  wound.  His  subjects  would  receive 
him  with  derision,  or  with  ironical  pity  still  harder 
to  endure.  To  the  whole  world  he  had  become  an 
object  of  scorn.  Shorn  of  power,  covered  with  in- 
flimy — yes,  he  might  now  be  suffered  to  depart! 

Finding  that  he  need  not  fear  to  meet  with  a 
repulse^  he  addressed  hinfself  to  Charles  in  person. 
He  bade  the  duke,  if  he  had  any  further  occasion  for 
his  services,  not  to  spare  him.  Otherwise  he  desired 
to  return  to  Paris,  where  he  would  make  proclamation 
of  the  treaty  and  cause  it  to  be  registered  by  the 
Parliament  —  until  which  it  could  be  of  no  effect. 
Charles  consented, — not  without  some  "murmuring" 
in  an  undertone, — but  desired  that  the  treaty  should 
again  be  read  over :  if  the  king  repented  of  having 
signed  it,  it  should  even  now  be  annulled.  Shame 
at  his  own  perfidy  seemed  to  be  aroused  by  the  as- 
tonishing equanimity  with  which  it  had  been  borne, 
and  he  stammered  forth  some  faint  apology  for  having 
forced  his  sovereign  into  such  a  position.^* 

Louis  quitted  Liege  on  the  2d  of  November. 
Crevecceur,  with  his  lances,  had  orders  to  escort  him 


'"  "  Multas  contumelias  a  civibus 
passus,  qui ...  in  eum  mirah  expro- 
brationes  perfidia?,  proditionis,  pcr- 
jurii  atque  iiifamiui  .  . .  acclamabant 
et  joculabant."  Basin,  torn.  ii.  p.  205. 


"  Idem,  ubi  supra. 

'*  "  Feit  quelquc  peu  d'excuse  de 
I'avoir  amend  \k."  Commines,  torn, 
i.  p.  198. 


606 


RUIN  OF  UiOE. 


[book  n. 


i.«'  ■  'Jl 


to  the  frontier.  The  duke  rode  with  him  in  person 
a  short  distance  from  the  town,  their  cordiality  undi- 
minished to  the  last.  The  king  was  so  well  pleased 
with  the  entertainment  he  had  met  with  that  he  de- 
clared his  purpose  to  visit  Charles  again,  in  the  ensu- 
ing summer,  in  Burgundy,  "  when  they  would  spend 
a  month  together,  making  good  cheer."  At  the 
moment  when  they  were  about  to  separate  Louis 
bethought  him  of  a  question  which  it  were  well  to 
have  solved  by  his  fair  cousin.  "What  shall  be  done," 
he  inquired,  "if  by  any  chance  my  brother  should 
refuse  to  accept  of  the  settlement  whicli,  frpm  my 
love  to  you,  I  have  promised  to  bestow  upon  him  ?  " 
"Do  what  shall  content  him,"  was  the  reply,  (at  that 
last  moment  no  other  could  well  be  made :)  "  I  leave 
the  matter  to  be  arranged  between  you."^*  So  they 
parted.  It  need  scarcely  "be  said  that  they  never 
met  again.  When  Louis  reached  the  confines  of  his 
own  dominions  he  dismoimted  and  pressed  his  lips 
to  the  soil,  giving  devout  thanks  to  Heaven  for  his 
preservation  in  so  great  a  peril.°* 

A  week  longer  the  army  remained  at  Liege,  secur- 
ing its  plunder,  disposing  of  the  prisoners  that  were 
daily  captured  in  the  neighborhood  and  brought  in 
to  receive  their  doom,  and  otherwise  preparing  for 


'  *'  "  Ledict  due  luy  respondit  soub- 
daincment,  sans  y  penser :  *  S'il  ne 
le  vcult  prendre,  mais  que  vous  fa- 
ciez  qu'il  soit  content,  je  m'en  rap- 
porte  h  vous  deux.' "  Idem,  p.  200. 
**  "  Do  er  an  sin  Gewarsame  kam, 
stand  er  ab  und  kusst  den  Herd,  und 
lobt  Gott  gar  loblich,  das  er  ihm  und 


den  Sinen  us  so  grosser  Xot  hat  ge- 
holfen."  (Diesbach,  in  I)er  Schwei- 
zerische  Geschichtforscher,  H.  viii. 
8.  174.)  He  also  thanked  his  fol- 
lowers for  their  faithful  service  dur- 
ing this  trying  time,  and  especially 
commended  little  Diesbach  and  his 
brother  pages.  , 


CIIAF.  IT.] 


DEPARTURE  OF  CHARLES. 


607 


the  "  end  "  that  was  to  "  crown  the  work  "  of  havoc 
and  devastation.**  Several  thousand  laborers  had 
been  summoned  from  Luxembourg,  and  placed  under 
the  orders  of  a  Burgundian  officer,  who  was  instruct- 
ed to  commence  openitions  as  soon  as  the  army  had 
withdrawn  from  the  place.  With  the  exception  of 
the  churches  and  monasteries,  and  about  three  hun- 
dred houses  to  be  occupied  hereafter  solely  by  eccle- 
siastics, the  whole  city  was  to  be  destroyed  by  fire 
and  the  ruins  levelled  with  the  ground.  Having  com- 
pleted his  arrangements,  the  duke  took  his  departure 
on  the  morning  of  the  9th.  Determined  thdt  the 
object  of  so  many  expeditions  should  now  be  thor- 
oughly accomplished,  he  prepared,  before  returning 
to  his  own  dominions,  to  lead  his  forces  into  Franchi- 
niont  and  other  parts  of  the  Ardennes,  and  waste 
with  fire  and  SAVord  those  breeding-places  of  mischief 
and  sedition.***  Descending  the  Meuse  on  the  left 
bank,  he  halted  for  the  night  at  the  Abbey  of  Yivi- 
gniers,  about  four  leagues  from  the  city.  It  was 
Saint  Hubert's  day,  always  celebrated  at  Liege  as  the 
supposed  anniversary  of  its  foundation,  but  henceforth 
to  be  associated  with  its  destruction.     Looking  back, 


**  Anthoine  de  Loisey,  a  licentiate 
of  law,  writing  from  Liege  to  the 
president  of  Burgundy,  says,  *'  In 
the  way  of  justice  there  is  nothing 
going  on  except  that  every  day  they 
hang  and  drown  such  of  the  Lie'gois 
ns  are  found  or  have  been  taken  pris- 
oners and  have  no  money  to  ransom 
themselves.  The  city  is  well  plun- 
dered, {bien  butinee,)  for  notliing  ro- 
mains  in  it  but  rubbish,  {rietis  que 


apres  feux ;)  and,  for  example,  I 
have  not  been  able  to  find  a  sheet 
of  paper  proper  for  writing  to  you, 
but,  with  all  my  pains,  could  get 
nothing  but  some  leaves  from  an  old 
book"  Lenglet,  tom.  Hi.  p.  83. — 
"  Furent  noyez  en  grant  n  ombre  lea 
povrns  gens  prisonniers."  Com- 
mines,  ton.  i.  p.  201. 

'*  "Dcsiroit  bien  de  nettoyer  ce 
trou."    Haynin,  tom.  i.  p.  143. 


•^ 


608 


RUIN  OF  LIEGE. 


[book   II. 


I 
1. 


■I 


li'" 


the  soldiers  beheld  the  flames  already  rising  at  dif- 
ferent points,  illuminating  the  numerous  spires  and 
casting  a  crimson  glare  upon  the  river,  while  the 
roar  and  tumult,  transmitted  along  the  surface  of  the 
water,  were  even  at  this  distance  distinctly  audible.'"' 
Crossing  the  river  at  Maestricht,  where  he  ordered 
the  decapitation  of  the  former  burgomaster  of  Liege, 
Charles  pursued  his  march  in  a  southerly  direction, 
and  entered  a  mountainous  tract  of  country  covered 
with  dense  forests,  now  bare  of  foliage,  and  traversed 
by  many  rivulets  and  wild  cascades,  which  the  keen 
breath  of  winter  had  already  arrested  in  their  flow. 
Sheltered  only  by  the  leafless  woods,  the  troops  suf- 
fered severely.  Hands  and  feet  were  frostbitten; 
provisions  were  scant;  and  the  frozen  wine  was  served 
out  in  solid  pieces  cut  with  hatchets  from  the  casks. 
But  neither  the  intensity  of  the  cold  nor  the  difficul- 
ties of  the  route  interfered  with  the  accomplishment 
of  their  ruthless  purpose.  The  small  towns  and  ham- 
lets scattered  through  this  romantic  region,  and  in- 
habited by  miners,  stone-cutters,  and  workers  in  iron 
a'^d  other  metals, — the  lonely  cabins  of  the  woodmen 
and  charcoal-burners,  where  perchance  the  wandering 
exiles  of  Liege  had  sometimes  gained  a  refuge  from 
the  storm,  —  were  devastated  and  burned.  Mills, 
forges,  all  machines  and  implements  of  labor,  were 
every  where  destroyed.     The  population  —  men  and 


mi^^  W: 


Wui 


^ 


*'  "  Xous  oyons  le  bruict,  comme 
si  nous  eussious  este  suv  le  lieu.  Je 
ne  scay,  ou  si  le  vent  y  servoit,  ou 
88  c'estoit  h,  cause  que  nous  estions 
logiez  sur  la  riviere."    Commines, 


torn.  i.  p.  202.  —  The  flames  were 
visible  from  the  towers  of  Aix-la- 
Chapelle,  between  thirty  and  forty 
miles  distant.  Bovy,  torn.  i.  p.  32.  — 
De  Bam,  p.  228,  note. 


OH  if.  IV.] 


MERCILESS  SPIRIT. 


609 


women,  old  and  young  —  were  put  to  the  sword,  or, 
flying  before  the  invader,  perished  in  tl»e  woods  from 
exposure  and  fatigue.  Commines,  who  observed  a 
mother  and  her  new-born  infant  lying  lifeless  and 
frozen  by  the  wayside,  mentions  it  merely  as  an  evi- 
dence of  the  severity  of  the  weather,  and  refrains 
from  particularizing  other  "  strange  sights  "  which  he 
saw,  lest  his  narrative  should  be  considered  prolix.""* 

Iluving  traversed  all  this  portion  of  the  principality 
from  east  to  west,  the  duke  again  turned  his  face 
northwards,  his  progress  hastened  by  the  difficulty 
of  procuring  supplies.  At  Huy,  where  he  remained 
from  the  19th  to  the  26th  of  November,  \iq  ordered 
the  execution  of  a  number  of  prisoners  that  had  been 
sent  thither  for  safe  keeping ;  and,  hearing  that  some 
fugitives  had  received  shelter  at  Mezieres,  within  the 
territory  of  France,  he  sent  a  peremptory  summons 
for  their  surrender,  which  was  prudently  complied 
with  by  the  authorities  of  the  town.  At  Louvain  he 
gave  fresh  examples  of  his  severity ;  and,  after  his 
arrival  at  Brussels,  he  caused  "  Wencelin  le  Streel, 
a  gentleman  of  Liege,"  and  one  of  the  leaders  in 
the  late  revolt,  to  be  publicly  beheaded  in  that 
capital.''^  In  his  absence,  the  spirit  which  he  had 
evoked  continued  to  work.    Throughout  the  winter, 


sa  « 


J'y  veiz  choses  increablcs  du    stranges  choses  longues  h  escripre." 


froit.  II  y  eut  ung  gentilhomme  qui 
perdit  ung  pied, .  .  .  ung  paige  ii  qui 
ii  tomba  deux  doigtz  de  la  main.  Je 
veiz  une  femme  morte  et  son  enfant, 
dont  elle  cstoit  accouchee  de  nou- 
veau.  .  .  .  J'en  diroye  assez  d'e- 


VOL.  I. 


77 


Commines,  torn.  i.  p.  203.  —  See  also 
Haynin,  torn.  i.  p.  143.  —  Theodori- 
cus  Paulus,  De  Ram,  p.  228.  —  Be- 
vy, torn.  ii.  pp.  63,  G8. 
**  Ilajiiin,  torn.  i.  p.  144. 


u 


.).', 


M 


V 

k 


CIO 


RUIN   OF  LIKGE. 


[hook 


small  parties  of  famished,  shivering  wretches,  driven 
by  a  terrible  necessity  to  solicit  food  and  shelter  from 
their  enemies,  made  their  appearance  at  Maestricht, 
Louvain,  and  other  places,  and  received  for  mercy 
that  swift  death  which  put  an  end  to  their  miseries 
and  their  wants. 

Moanwliile  the  duke's  instructions  in  r  gard  to 
Liege  had  been  duly  carried  into  effect.  The  work 
of  destruction  had  proceeded  slowly  and  systemati- 
cally—  precautions  being  taken,  though  not  in  all 
instances  effectually,  for  the  isolation  of  the  churches 
and  of  the  other  edifices  which  it  was  intended  to 
preserve.  Every  morning  the  flames  were  kindled 
at  a  fresh  point,  and  more  than  seven  weeks  elapsed 
before  they  were  finally  suffered  to  exj^ire.  The 
ruins,  as  at  Dinant,  were  searched,  sifted,  and  levelled. 
Every  thing  portable  und^of  value  was  carried  off 
Not  a  single  building  v^hich  had  been  used  or  inhab- 
ited solely  by  laymen  was  left  standing.  The  steeples 
and  towers  which  had  symbolized  the  faith  and  aspi- 
rations of  successive  generations  now  rose  amid  the 
waste  as  monuments  of  the  havoc  which  they  alone 
had  been  permitted  to  survive.^ 

Yet  the  fomidaiions  of  Liege,  the  original  elements 
of  its  existence,  still  remained.  The  relics  of  Saint 
Lambert,  defying  a  sacrilegious  purpose  to  remove 
them,  continued  to  occupy  their  venerable  and  majes- 
tic shrine."'     Beneath  the  devastated  soil  lay  sources 


"''   Adrianus.  —  De   Los.  —  De    errand,  supposed  to  be  indicative  of 

Merica.  —  Thcodoricus  Paulus,  the  duke's  intention  to  transfer  the 

"  The  party  sent  on  this  profenc    eiiiscopal  seat  to  Maestricht,  had  no 


CHAP.  IV.]      DESOLATION  DUHIN'G   CHARLES'S  LIFE. 


Gil 


of  wealth  -svliicli  wore  indcstnictiblc  and  incxhausti- 
l)lo.  TIic  river,  exempt  from  ravage  or  decay,  flowed 
with  the  same  fidl  and  even  curre^it  as  when,  nine 
(centuries  before,  Saint  Monulph,  looking  down  upon 
the  triple  valley  where  the  Ourthe  and  the  Vesdre 
(liHcliarge  into  the  Meiise,  had  foretold  the  rise  of  a 
great  and  populous  town.  The  Past  had  perished: 
its  legacies  had  been  squandered  or  destroyed.  But 
there  must  still  be  a  Future  for  Liege,  based,  like  the 
Pa.st,  on  what  was  imperishable  and  inalienable. 

To  trace  even  the  dawn  of  that  future  forms,  how- 
ever, no  portion  of  our  task.  While  Charles  of 
Burgundy  survived  Liege  remained  unpeopled  and 
in  ashes.  A  remnant  of  the  former  population 
found  shelter  in  the  caves  along  the  hill-sides.  A 
few  wooden  huts  were  built  for  the  better  accommo- 
dation of  the  priests,  and  of  a  certain  number  of  me- 
chanics whom  they  weie  permitted  to  retain  in  their 
service.  Even  these  concessions  were  obtained  only 
on  stringent  conditions  and  after  a  long  negotiation. 
Tolls  were  levied  on  the  vessels  passing  and  repass- 
ing what  had  long  been  the  principal  mart  for  the 
products  with  which  they  were  freighted ;  and  a  for- 
tress, constructed  in  a  quarter  of  the  city  called  "  the 
Island,"  which  had  been  ceded  to  the  duke  in  grati- 
tude for  his  services  in  suppressing  the  rebellion, 
coniDianded  both  banks  of  the  Meuse,  and  forbade 

sooner  laid  hands  on  the  object  of  ly  from  the  spot;  —  "  Quo  audito  dux 

their   unhallowed  quest,  than  they  niiraculo  sententiam  de  transfereiidis 

were  smitten  with  a  panic  and  "  con-  ecclesiis  in  melius  coraaiutavit."  De 

fusion  of  mind,"  and  iled  precipitate-  Los,  p.  62. 


m 


vi 


612 


iiriN  OF  li£ge. 


[UOOK    !!• 


t  "It 


>Jt 


Bi' 


any  attempt  to  revive  the  industry  and  trade  so 
ruthlessly  trampled  upon  and  eflUced5 

'  The  war  waged  by  Liege  against  the  hous'3  of 
Burgundy  was  neither  wisely  undertaken  nor  heroi- 
cally carried  on.  It  was  a  natural,  but  fitful  and 
frantic  struggle  to  throw  off  a  grasp  too  powerful 
to  be  thus  escaped  from,  tightened  at  every  fresh 
attempt,  never  loosened  until  life  had  become  ex- 
tinct. 

It  would  have  fared  better  with  Liege  if  no  bar 
had  existed  to  its  incorporation  with  the  Burgundian 
dominions.  In  that  case,  the  resistance  would  prob- 
ably have  ended  after  the  success  of  the  first  inva- 
sion :  for  the  change  of  rule  would  have  been  found 
beneficial ;  the  popular  liberties,  as  in  other  Belgian 
provinces,  would  have  survived  the  conquest;  and 
great  advantages  in  respect  of  commerce  would  have 
flowed  from  it.  We  are  fain  to  acknowledge,  also, 
that,  where  there  was  no  public  opinion  to  impose 
a  restraint  upon  the  ambition  of  i)rinces,  the  inde- 
pendence of  a  state  possessing  no  better  security  for 
its  maintenance  than  the  forbearance  of  more  power- 
ful neighbors  could  be  esteemed  of  little  value.  At 
an  earlier  period  of  history,  the  subdivision  of  Eu- 
rope into  small  political  communities  had  saved 
society  from  relapsing  into  utter  barbarism.  The 
flame  of  national  life  had  been  too  feeble  to  animate 
the  vast  empire  of  Charlemagne,  or  even  the  king- 
doms formed  out  of  its  principal  pavts.     The  bonds 


Idem.  —  Documents  in  Dc  Ram,  p.  576,  et  Bcq. 


ClIAl'.  IV.] 


llEl'LECnOKS. 


010 


tliat  knit  society  together  required  to  be  tested  and 
strengthened  before  being  extended.  But  the  time 
had  at  ^ength  arrived  when  the  principle  of  coliesion 
was  to  become  more  active.  Greater  lights  were 
about  to  rise,  and  the  stars  were  fading  in  the  grad- 
ual dawn.  The  extinction  of  petty  sovereignties,  the 
transfonnation  of  states  into  provinces,  the  consoli- 
dation of  provinces  into  monarchies,  are  well  known 
phenomena  that  preceded  or  accompanied  the  gen- 
eral awakening  of  the  human  intellect  in  tht  fifteenth 
and  sixteenth  centuries ;  and,  however  viol  itly  these 
changes  were  effected,  or  with  whatever  incidental 
disasters  to  freedom  and  humanity,  they  were  neces- 
sary stages  in  the  development  of  nations  and  in  the 
progress  of  civilization. 

But  reflections  of  this  kind  are  derived  from  a 
wider  view  than  that  which  our  narrative  has  yet 
embraced.  In  reading  a  story  like  this  of  the  ruin 
of  Liege,  we  are  not  inclined  to  speculate  about  hid- 
den causes  or  ultimate  results.  Every  other  consid- 
eration, every  other  sentiment,  is  overpowered  by 
compassion  for  the  miseries  endured  and  abhorrence 
of  the  cruelty  that  inflicted  them. 

It  is  true  that  such  barbarities  were  not  unconnnon 
in  mediaeval  warfare,  and  that,  in  passing  judgment 
on  the  transactions  of  a  past  age,  we  are  not  to  ovei*- 
look  the  point  of  view  from  which  they  were  regarded 
by  contemporaries.  In  the  present  instance,  the 
<.'hroniclers  and  other  writers  of  the  time  seeiu  to 
have  considered  the  whole  proceeding  as  amply  jus- 
tified by  the  circumstances  —  as  the  fit  conclusion, 


T^ 


014 


KUIN  OF  LifiOE. 


[book    II. 


siiji  :i , 


'■4 

J?, 


i^ 


tlie  necessary  .sequel,  of  a  series  of  events  for  Avhich 
the  Burgundian  sovereign  was  in  no  degree  resjx)!!- 
sible.  The  arrogance  and  presumption  of  a  rebellious 
people,  its  long  career  of  anarchy  and  impiety,  its 
(continual  relapses  after  each  fresh  chastisement  and 
promise  of  amendment,  were  urged  not  merely  as  an 
apology  for  the  final  vengeance,  but  as  evidence  that 
Heaven  had  been  the  arbiter  of  that  vengeance,  man 
only  the  instrument.*' 

It  was  an  act,  therefore,  sanctioned  by  the  practice, 
instigated  and  excused  by  the  crude  ideas,  the  narrow 
prejudices,  the  blunted  sensibilities  of  the  age.  But 
if  the  age  stamps  its  character  upon  the  man,  '.t  is 
also  true  that  the  man  stamps  his  own  character  upon 
the  age.  In  no  state  of  society  are  the  instincts  of 
humanity  altogether  dormant,  the  voice  of  conscience 
wholly  silent,  the  conflict  between  good  and  evil  en- 
tirely suspended.  What  part  each  man  has  taken  in 
that  conflict,  what  share  he  has  had  in  hastening  or 
retarding  the  certain  triumph  of  right  over  wrong,  not 
what  influences  he  has  undergone,  but  what  influence 
he  has  exercised,  are  the  questions  of  chief  import- 
ance in  regard  to  him. 

We  cannot  wonder  that  the  destroyer  of  Dinant 
and  of  Liege  should  have  been  visited  by  presenti- 


*^  This  sentiment  is  the  key-note 
of  the  popular  ballads  and  other  pro- 
ductions in  verse  which  commemo- 
rate the  misfortunes  of  Liege.  Spe- 
cimens may  be  found  in  De  Ram 
and  other  collections.  But  the  same 
tone  runs  through  all  the  accounts, 


extending  even  to  that  of  Commines. 
Even  in  the  present  centurj',  how- 
ever, it  is  more  conrtnon  to  discern 
the  action  of  a  controlling  Providence 
in  the  evil  which  is  permitted  than 
in  the  beneficent  laws  that  silently 
rectify  or  abolish  it. 


[hook    II. 

for  which 
ee  lespon- 
,  rebellious 
npiety,  its 
anient  and 
3rely  as  an 
dence  that 
?ance,  man 

le  practice, 
the  narrow 
age.     But 
!  man,  't  is 
racter  upon 
instincts  of 
*  conscience 
nd  evil  en- 
as  taken  in 
astening  or 
?  wrong,  not 
at  influence 
tiief  import- 

r  of  Dinant 
by  presenti- 

lat  of  Commines. 
nt  centurj',  how- 
nltnon  to  discern 
oiling  Providence 
i  permitted  than 
aws  that  silently 
it. 


CHAP.  IV.] 


liEFI.EcnONS. 


015 


ments  of  his  brief  career  and  violent  end.  It  was 
written  of  old,  «  The  man  of  blood  shall  not  live  out 
half  his  days."  "They  that  take  the  sword  shall 
perish  with  the  sword." 


END  OF  THE  FIRST   VOLUME. 


